Inside Job
by Scoops838
Summary: Tag to 6:7 Collateral Damage - Tony was weary of the new recruit and felt slightly threatened by the newer model. To compensate he shows off to the rest of the team but Vance was really not impressed with his antics, especially when he repeated them again before the day was out. Warning: Discipline/spanking of a minor by his father. Connected to Brownie Points AU
1. Chapter 1

Gibbs tucked the ID card of Agent Langer in behind the framed photo's of other agents fallen in the line of duty and returned to the bar to finish his drink.

The bartender had asked him if he was drinking alone that night and he'd simply answered "no" in a way only Gibbs could manage, a single word that in itself said more than any lengthy sentence.

It had been a long day, but ultimately successful, they'd closed the case with the Quantico bank robbery and murder of Vittorio and solved an old robbery of a jewelry store to boot. He'd recommended that the rookie agent Dwayne Wilson be taken on board full-time and tried to put aside the self-doubt Ducky had told him he'd been harbouring since the day they had found out that Langer, a guy he'd recommended, had betrayed the agency and his country.

Success or not, there were a few things that were still on his mind. First, he did not think his gut had got it that wrong about Langer and kept telling him to look closer into Agent Lee. Second, and personally the most important worry was that Vance had said to him that the new agents should be more like McGee than DiNozzo. Was the Director planning on getting rid of Tony again, sending him off as agent afloat or to another team? He didn't think he'd cope with that, he knew Tony wouldn't and yet Tony's behaviour was playing right into Vance's hands.

His musings were interrupted by the ever-cheerful voice of his son.

"Hey Dad you said you wanted to see me," grinned Tony, "are you buying?"

"Yeah, what are you having Tony?" he answered.

"Er, just a light beer," he replied.

"You driving?" asked Gibbs slightly taken back that Tony had chosen this option.

"No, I'm er doing some erm, extra bits and pieces at work," explained Tony, "want to make sure I've got a clear head and all for the morning."

"But we are all off duty for the next three days," stated Gibbs confused.

"I know but they needed a bit of help down in the evidence garage with an audit, so I volunteered to help," said Tony, taking a sip of the drink and averting his eyes from his Dad.

The evasion was not unnoticed by the father.

"You alright Tony?" he asked, "I thought you had a meet up with your college buddy's this weekend, what's changed?"

"Nothing Dad, just thought I'd help out, is all," said Tony, "no big deal."

Gibbs scrutinized the face of his son, something was most definitely not right and if Vance had said or done something to make Tony feel that he had to volunteer to do Probie work to get into his good graces in order to stay on the team he'd have something to say about that. Vance had been so disparaging about Tony, he clearly hadn't read the kids file. McGee was not the only one with stellar results and degrees, Tony had too, it was just that he didn't brag about them, if anything he played the whole thing down. Sure McGee was the go to guy on computers but cases needed far more than just technical know-how.

"Has someone made you think that you need to do more than you are already doing Tony?" Gibbs tried again.

"No Dad, can't a guy just want to help?" asked Tony.

"Sure, but you hate the evidence garage at the best of times, why would you volunteer your weekend off to help out, I don't understand," continued Gibbs.

"Dad, please just leave it, ok," said Tony finishing his drink and standing up to leave, "I volunteered ok."

"Hey what's with the attitude?" asked Gibbs, "I'm only worried about you, just wanted to spend an hour with my son before he spent the weekend with his buddies and left his old man to his boat and basement."

"Sorry Dad," said Tony, "I didn't mean to snap, just could do without the twenty questions."

"Fine, fine," said Gibbs, "but if there's something bothering you, if you've fallen out with your friends or someone has made you feel that you don't do enough around here, you'll tell me right?"

"Er yes sure," said Tony, "look I am sorry and a bit tired, I'm gonna get an early night."

With that Tony quickly hugged his Dad and made his way home. Gibbs ordered up another drink and called Ducky.

"You busy Duck?" he asked.

"Not at all Jethro, what brings about your unexpected but welcome call at this hour?" asked the Doctor, "Is everyone alright?"

"Yeah, I think so," answered Gibbs, "but I don't know."

"Is that famous gut of yours and your recent bout of self doubt still troubling you, if so than I can tell you that I think your assessment of Agent Wilson was spot on, I heard about his instincts at the cemetery, smart kid there, reminds me of Tony, and you when you were younger, you know I used to know a fellow in Edinburgh who…" Dr Mallard was under way.

"Duck sorry to interrupt the story but have you got a spare hour or two?" asked Gibbs.

"For you Jethro as much time as you need," replied Ducky, "are you at home, I can pop right over?"

"No I'm at that cop bar down by the gates to the base," answered Gibbs.

"I'll join you there," said Ducky, he could hear that there was something amiss in Gibbs voice, "give me 20 minutes."

With that he hung up and made his way over to the bar. As he walked in past the wall of frames with pictures of the fallen on it, he couldn't help but notice the picture of Langer tucked into the midst of them.

He pulled up a stool alongside Gibbs who was on his third drink and looking morose.

"I hope you're not planning on trying to drink your troubles away Jethro," he started, "nothing worse for that gut of yours than too much bourbon."

"Please Duck spare me the lecture, I just needed to talk to an old friend," begged Gibbs.

"I'm sorry Jethro, its just the ME in me that has seen one to many badly damaged livers in his time," said Ducky, "shall we start again and let me get you something to eat alongside that drink of yours?"

"Thanks Duck," he smiled, "food would be good."

They took a table at one of the booths by the window and waited for the meals to arrive. Ducky was keenly observing his friend for signs of what was bothering him.

"You feel guilty don't you?" he questioned.

"Me, about what?" asked Gibbs mildly surprised.

"I saw you put his ID up on the wall over there," said Ducky, "that gut of yours doesn't think he did it and you feel you've let him take the blame."

"Yeah in part," answered Gibbs, "but I'm working on a solution to that, and that's not the problem."

"Oh," replied Ducky, "then you'd better let me know what you think the problem is and let me try to help you."

"It's Tony," said Gibbs, "I think Vance wants to send him away again or maybe even get rid of him, and he's volunteering for all this extra work and giving up his time with his buddies."

"Yes I heard about it," said Ducky, "Jimmy had been looking forward to going with Tony this weekend, he gets on well with Tony's college friends, he was most disappointed when Tony said he'd cancelled it."

"Did he tell Palmer why?" asked Gibbs.

"Not really, but Jimmy had seen he had been called in to see the Director and figured that it was another undercover op and that took priority," said the Doctor, "the lad was a little concerned that Tony was going undercover again without telling you and having proper back-up, he recalls how annoyed you were with Tony last time, the two of them have become quite close friends you know."

"Did he say it was an undercover op?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, you would need to ask Mr Palmer directly about that," answered Ducky, "but that is certainly the impression he seemed to have been given by young Tony."

"He told me he was volunteering to help audit the evidence garage?" said Gibbs.

"What Tony?" asked Ducky slightly taken aback, "I thought he did everything he could to avoid that place or spending too much time down there and why would he give up a weekend for that. Sounds more like a punishment detail to me, you know I when I was a young officer in the RAMC I once got assigned extra duties for an entire month with the quartermaster in his stores for being late back to barracks."

"Sounds a bit of a harsh punishment Duck, how late were you?" asked Gibbs.

"Oh only half an hour," replied Ducky, "but so was the Majors daughter who had accompanied me on my little jaunt and I think he wanted to impress upon me a lesson about timing and dating his daughter. He took up all of my free time and by the time I'd finished my extra duties she had found a new love." Ducky paused, "you don't think our Tony has got himself into trouble with the Director do you?"

"I don't know Ducky," mused Gibbs, "but I'll find out."

"Oh dear, I do hope not," said Ducky, "is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, I'll investigate Duck," said Gibbs, "but if he has done something stupid you might need to be there to make sure he can sit down after I have finished with him."

"I'm sure it will be fine Jethro, the young man has been relatively well behaved since he came back from being Agent Afloat, I've hardly seen a head slap," smiled Ducky.

"Lets hope you're right Duck," sighed Gibbs taking another bite of his meal and sip of his drink, "let's hope you're right."

However the feeling of unease did not really dissipate all night, despite Ducky's stories told to try to take his mind off of things and cheer his friend up.

Gibbs didn't really sleep that night, as he reviewed the last few days activities. Sure Tony had been chatting up the new recruits but that wasn't a punishable offence and other than his usual joking that he did as par for the course, he'd worked hard, desperately trying to impress his dad and Agent Wilson. There had to be something he didn't know.

Next morning he rose early and went for a run trying to clear his head. It didn't work and he soon found himself sat in his truck on to the way into the navy yard.

As he pulled up in the parking bay he bumped into Nigel, the guard from the security office.

"Morning Agent Gibbs," he smiled, "I didn't know your team was in today Sir."

"We're not, just chasing something up that's been bugging me," said Gibbs.

"Anything I can help with Sir," asked Nigel.

"Well I could do with access to the security footage," he said.

"Sure, I can set you up in our office," said Nigel, "I even have some of that coffee you like."

"Sounds like we have a plan," smiled Gibbs, "are you sure I'm not taking you away from your other work?"

"Not at all," he answered, "wife has the mother in law around this weekend and I'm trying to stay out of the way."

"I know your pain," laughed Gibbs, "I've had four of them."

"So what you looking for exactly?" asked Nigel.

"Well I know Agent DiNozzo got called in to see the Director yesterday," said Gibbs, "can you locate his whereabouts on the cameras, I'd like to see what was going on just before and after that meeting."

"Sure we'll start on the camera on the mezzanine level and get a time frame and then check him on the other cameras leading up to there," suggested Nigel, "say Agent Gibbs, this isn't anything to do with the CCTV that the Director had Bob download of Agent DiNozzo in the canteen area does it?"

"When did he do that?" asked Gibbs.

"Yesterday about an hour or so before you guys left," said Nigel.

"Do you know what was on there?" asked Gibbs.

"No but I could make you a copy of that too if you'd like?" he offered.

"Would you?" asked Gibbs.

"Sure it won't take long at all."

Forty minutes later, Gibbs had two discs in his hand. Now he just had to find somewhere outside of the office to play them. He didn't have the technology at home, his tv was practically steam driven, much to his sons despair and his computer had probably been used by Noah to design the Ark.

He looked down at the keys in his hand. The spare key to Tony's apartment was attached to his bunch. Not that he was sure why he actually kept any keys of his own as he rarely locked up.

He made his way over to Tony's and put the disc in the TV system and sat back to watch.

When Tony arrived home he collapsed onto the sofa and closed his eyes. He was worn out and ached, he needed a shower and he still had another two days of this. As he re-opened his eyes he noticed something on the table in front of him that hadn't been there when he'd left in the morning.

He reached forward and picked it up, a bar of chocolate, the type they sold in the vending machine at HQ. As he turned it over in his hand wondering how on earth it at got there he heard the creak of the floor boards.

Looking up he was met with a steely gaze, one that meant he wasn't going to get that relaxing shower or the early night.

"You still got that sweet tooth Tony?" asked Gibbs; the question rhetorical. "Thought you would have lost your appetite."

"Dad," said Tony, "I can explain."

"Oh good," said Gibbs, "I'm sure glad you can because there's a lot of explaining to be done the way I see it."

Tony gulped, "please Dad can I go take a shower first at least?"

"You have ten minutes Tony and then I want your butt out here and on that sofa," said Gibbs.

Whilst Tony showered and changed Gibbs went into the kitchen and made the kid a sandwich and poured him a drink whilst at the same time pouring himself a mug of coffee.

As Tony came out of the bathroom in sweat pants and t-shirt, his hair still damp he reminded Gibbs of a much younger Tony, the same look of guilt on his face as the 11 year old boy who had once found himself in the same position.

"Sit and eat something," he commanded.

Tony took a seat and did as he was told. He struggled to swallow the bites of the sandwich. His mouth was dry and his throat felt constricted. He knew he was in trouble and his appetite had suddenly gone.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dad I don't think I can eat this," said Tony, his head bowed and voice low.

"When did you last eat?" asked Gibbs.

"Breakfast, this morning," answered Tony, "I grabbed some toast and juice."

"And you've not eaten since then?" asked Gibbs wondering how his usually continually hungry son who had been carrying out a physically demanding job all day had coped.

"No Sir," answered Tony, "I didn't get chance to stop."

"Then you need to eat something, you must be hungry," stated Gibbs, "I'd get you something else but your cupboards are practically bare."

"I don't think I could eat anything," said Tony.

"So if I wasn't here what would you have done?" asked Gibbs.

"Probably ordered a pizza," admitted Tony.

"So the loss of appetite is down to my presence and that bar of chocolate rather than anything medical?" asked Gibbs not really needing an answer to the question.

"I guess so," said Tony.

"Then there is no reason why you physically cannot eat and I am in no rush to go anywhere," answered Gibbs, "so I suggest you keep trying."

Tony attempted to take one more bite but suddenly stood up and rushed for the bathroom. Gibbs followed concerned and arrived just as Tony was heaving the meager contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl.

Running him a glass of fresh water and passing him a damp face cloth Gibbs perched on the edge of the bath whilst Tony sat on the cold tiled floor and tried to stop his world spinning and his stomach turning over.

"Do you want me to call Ducky?" asked Gibbs.

"No, I just need to sleep," answered Tony sullenly, "I told you I couldn't eat it."

"You cannot go all day on toast and juice Tony," stated Gibbs.

"What would you know Dad, you mainline caffeine, when do I ever force-feed you?" argued Tony.

Trying to remain calm and telling himself that Tony was just biting back to divert attention from himself Gibbs took a deep breath and answered, "You don't Tony, but you and I are both aware that whilst my diet is not necessarily the healthiest I do at least eat." He paused and let that sink in with Tony. "Now do you want me to get you some soup?"

"I don't want you to get me anything," shouted Tony, "I just want you to leave me alone."

"That's not going to happen Tony," warned Gibbs, "we both know that we need to talk."

Tony scrambled up from the floor, "look this is my house and my fuck up, leave me alone, get out."

He stormed out of the bathroom and headed to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself down onto the bed, burying his head into the pillow and pulling the cover over himself that was still lying discarded from when he'd thrown himself out of bed that morning.

As tired as he was though, he couldn't sleep. He beat his fist against the pillow. He had stolen candy like a child, he'd been caught out by his dad, a dad who only 24 hours ago he had lied to, a dad who had brought him up to know right from wrong, a dad who expected better from him, who'd had to fight Vance to get him back from being Agent Afloat, a dad who he had shouted and sworn at and had just told to get out of his house.

He dragged himself out of the bed and wandered back out into the living room expecting to find his Dad out there waiting for him, but the house was remarkably quiet. He checked the dining room and kitchen. The place was dark and empty, his Dad had gone.

He picked up the phone and started to dial Gibbs' number but couldn't bring himself to dial that last digit. He had hurt the man who had loved him unconditionally, how could he live with that. He switched the phone off and threw it down onto the sofa, sinking into it himself. On the table in front of him the half eaten sandwich still sat on the plate and the bar of chocolate stared back at him reminding him of what had got him into this mess in the first place. He angrily struck out at the lot sending them flying to the floor, the plate smashing and the pieces scuttling across the wooden planks. His hand caught the edge of the table and a drop of blood mixed with the debris now on the floor.

Tony got up and walked into the kitchen to get a cloth to stop the bleeding. God he needed a drink. He had not felt like this since Jenny had died. He'd blamed himself, he was on her protection detail, he'd talked Ziva out of checking up on her sooner. He knew they had been ordered not to but equally he knew that order was wrong. The drinking had started the moment he had gone down to autopsy and had found Duckys' aged single malt. It had become worse after he was called into the Directors office and ordered to pack, the first few weeks away at sea had disappeared in a haze of alcohol fumes until he'd nearly stumbled overboard after a drinking session and a game of poker (an illegal game at that.) That had sobered him pretty quickly but he'd needed something else to take his mind off of it all, to comfort himself and now he had become just as addicted to chocolate as he had nearly been to the alcohol. He had to have it, he almost didn't care how he got it; it just came as a bonus to him that he had found out quite by accident that the NCIS vending machine had a flaw in it that if hit in a certain place would vend free candy bars. Even though he was now back in the team he still needed the comfort.

He had justified it in his own mind, all that time spent away from the team, all those extra hours he'd put in and didn't claim for, the nights where he worked at home, even though he told his colleagues he was out on some hot date. The fact that he had been sent to sea whilst the Director had utilized the other agents on the team to flush out the mole in the agency. The Director didn't recognize his worth so the odd free bar of candy to make up for that was nothing really, a couple of dollars a day. One bar had become two or three and it had even got to the point where he no longer hid the fact that he was taking them out of the machine without paying, in fact it made them taste all the better.

Deep down however he knew it was wrong, he knew that his Dad would be angry. Once again he started to try to justify his behaviour. He was a grown man, he was taking his punishment from the Director and getting on with it. It wasn't affecting the working of the team or interfering with any active investigation and if it had been Tim or Ziva their parents would never have had to find out. Why should he be any different? So he and his Dad worked together, that didn't mean he had to be doubly punished?

Yet despite all of these attempts to justify matters, it wasn't really working.

Outside the apartment Gibbs sat in his truck. If he'd stayed in the house with Tony in that mood, he would have throttled him. He was desperately close to marching back in there now and dragging him out of his bedroom to account for all of his actions. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear his own father telling him to calm down, to look for the reason behind the behaviour; but he was struggling, it was so out of character for his son; sure there had been the odd problem in the past, the distant past, but why this why now?

He closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face. God Tony was so like him that the two might as well have been genetically linked. Gibbs was angry that Tony had jeopardized everything over a candy bar but something greater was hurting his boy, something far deeper.

He got out of the truck and climbed the stairs back up to Tony's apartment and gently knocked the door but no answer came. He waited, his head and hand rested upon the door, seeking entry, seeking inspiration.

He tried the handle; the door was still unlocked. He pushed it open, still unsure whether to enter, perhaps he should wait until tomorrow, perhaps he should leave it until Tony came to him.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of a gentle sob coming from the sofa, the kind that broke any parents heart. In that moment he knew he had to go inside. He walked in gently, not wanting to startle Tony, not wanting to provoke a further outburst.

Tony was laid in the foetal position on the sofa, asleep but clearly dreaming. Pain etched on his young face making it look so old, so grey, so troubled.

Gibbs pulled a throw from the armchair and laid it carefully over Tony, tucking it around him like he had done when he was a little boy. He smoothed a hand over his hair as if trying to smooth his brow and wipe his worries away. Anger at his early behaviour gone, replaced now with worry.

He ensured the door was locked, quietly he picked up the broken plate and discarded sandwich dropping both into the trash along with the bar of chocolate. He returned to the living room and sank into the armchair, sleep also taking over his mind and body. He recalled being in Tony's position himself as a young teenager, caught up with anger and guilt, doing things out of character and downright wrong and not knowing how to release the grip those two powerful emotions had on him. The memories of that time invaded his own dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

Leroy hated it, his mother had only been dead for 6 months and yet the predatory females of the quiet little backwater that he lived in were already circling, probably thinking that a man who had been a flying ace in the Second World War and now owned one of the local businesses was too good a catch to leave alone for too long, just incase someone else got in there first.

What he really hated was that his father seemed to be oblivious to the attempts to win him over, or maybe he was ready to move on. The latest offering from Mrs Hannigan, a fruit cake and chocolate brownies was sat on the kitchen table, wrapped in a red and white checkered cloth, as if ready to be packed up as part of a lovely family picnic. Meanwhile his father was entertaining her in the lounge with cups of coffee and stories of the old days and laughter. It made him feel sick.

His hatred focused on the baked goods that represented all that he loathed. Without a further thought he'd snatched them up from the table and ran out of the back door to the house not really stopping to think where he was heading.

As the air in his lungs started to burn with the exertion and the anger he felt inside, he found himself some distance from home, in the middle of nowhere still clutching the food inside the cloth.

He slammed the food to the ground, stamping on it hard, taking out on the cake everything he felt about its baker, and for that matter all of the other women that suddenly wanted to befriend his father and play step-mom to him. As he looked at the mushed remains of the goods a moment of guilt and panic overcame him. His father was sure to find the food gone and would know immediately that he was responsible for taking it, he had no way of fixing this, none at all. His father hated waste of good food and this hadn't even been Leroy's to take and destroy. He was bound to be in trouble.

Perhaps he thought, if he had been a better son then his father would turn to him for support in getting over their loss, rather than strangers and people who had shown little or no interest when his mother was alive. They were both suffering but his father wouldn't talk about it to him, refused to explain how his mother had so suddenly gone downhill.

Sure Leroy knew she was ill, knew cancer was going to take her and there was nothing the doctors could do to stop it, but it didn't explain how she was gone so suddenly. His father refused to tell him and the only other man that had been a really close friend of his mother and father, the man he was named after, was no longer welcome in the house and had given up trying to come around.

There must have been something he'd missed. If he'd known what it was perhaps he could have helped, even if it had just kept his mom with them for another week, another month. Perhaps if he had been more alert he would have known to have spent the last hours with her rather than be off at a football game.

As he sat on the ground by the remains of the cake he held his head in his hands. How was he going to fix this mess, his father hated theft and dishonesty more than he hated waste. He didn't hear the vehicle pull up at the side of the road next to him, nor the all too familiar sound of the drivers door opening making a strange creaking noise as it did since a dent in the main door panel pushed the metal onto the hinge.

"Leroy, get yourself in this truck now," demanded Jackson.

The order went unanswered and ignored.

"Son, I said to get in here now," repeated Jackson, "don't make me come and get you."

The warning didn't have it's desired effect, probably because Leroy was in no mood to receive it and Jackson was in no mood to tone it down or ask why his 14 year old son had suddenly taken off and run nearly 2 miles out of town.

Leroy did however get to his feet, staring at his father with a look that could have frozen a summer stream. "Why should I?" he demanded.

"Because I'm your father and I told you to," Jackson replied.

"So you want to play my father now that your little lady friends are no longer around?" yelled Leroy, immediately realizing he hadn't just overstepped the mark but he had just taken a huge running leap at it, clearing it without the slightest problem.

That moment of realization meant that he hadn't seen the lightening quick reactions of his father who had stepped forward and grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket turning him to the side in the same move and laying six blistering smacks to his backside.

"You'll do well to keep a civil tongue in your mouth young man, now get in the truck," he demanded.

Not wanting to push his father any further at this point where they were out in public and prone to being seen from the road, Leroy did as he was bade, slamming the truck door closed behind him and sitting on a mildly sore backside scowling out of the window.

He watched as his father bent forward to pick up the cloth from the floor and shake the remaining crumbs out of it. He folded it and pushed it into the pocket of his trousers.

The ride back home was in silence, mainly because Jackson knew that to talk to his son whilst he was still in a mood would not be constructive for anyone, also because he couldn't for the life of him work out where all of the hatred was coming from.

He knew Leroy was still struggling with the death of his mom and he had tried to talk to him, but his son was quiet at the best of times and now was no exception. He knew that Leroy didn't want the women of the town coming to the house but he had tried to explain that there was nothing untoward going on and he could not just rudely turn them away or throw their charity back in their faces. However the boy just would not accept that.

He also knew that he was angry and that wouldn't lead to productive talks. Leroy wanted answers that he couldn't give for fear that doing so would make things worse for the boy. How could he tell him that his mother knew she was getting worse and didn't want to suffer or let the family see her suffer and had ended her own life early with an overdose of morphine whilst her son was out of the house at football and her husband was picking up a prescription from the pharmacy? How could he tell him that the very man he was named after knew what she had intended to do and had agreed to keep her secret from the rest of the family? That very knowledge was killing Jackson himself and he feared what it would do for the boy to know.

When they arrived home Leroy got out of the car, once again slamming the door behind him. He at least went into the house without any dramas.

"Go into the living room Leroy," said Jackson, his voice much more controlled than he felt his emotions were, "we need to talk."

His son had complied, throwing himself onto the couch and instantly regretting doing so as his backside already smarted from just six swats. The sulk on his face deepened.

"What have I told you about this temper of yours Leroy?" Jackson asked coming into the room.

"And what have I told you about all of the women that you keep bringing around?" retorted Leroy angrily.

Biting his tongue in a desperate attempt not to fuel another argument Jackson just fixed his son with a look that already said more than words could.

"Please stop before you let this hatred take over your life and ruin it Leroy," he begged his son.

"Then please stop all these women coming over to the house Dad, it's disrespectful to mom," replied the boy still just as angry.

"Leroy I have told you that none of them are going to take your moms spot in my heart nor in your life, but I am not going to be rude to them when they want to help and offer support," he explained, "sometimes its just good to have someone to talk to."

"You had Uncle Jethro," spat Leroy, "you could have talked to him but you sent him away."

"Leroy don't go there," said Jackson, "we've had this conversation."

"Conversation?" questioned the boy, "All I hear was you telling me not to ask questions, that it was adult stuff, you didn't answer any of my questions."

"Enough," boomed Jackson, feeling his temper rising, "lets get back to the matter at hand shall we and why you felt it was right to take something that wasn't yours and destroy it."

"Because I did," the sulky and angry teenage response.

"We both know that's not a good enough answer," replied Jackson.

"Well it's the only one I've got," retorted Leroy, "so shall we just get to the punishment part?"

"That's not how it works Leroy and you know it, what good is the punishment if you don't know what it's going to remind you not to do in the future and sorts out the problems of the present?" Jackson asked.

"Well it will make you feel better and get you off of my case," replied Leroy, "and shall we just say I know it's wrong to take something and that I won't do it again."

"No Leroy we won't," responded Jackson, "I need proper answers."

"Well I haven't got them and so there's nothing else for us to talk about, so I'm out of here," said Leroy getting to his feet and heading to the door.

Jackson caught a hold of him in the hallway, "you're not walking out on this Leroy."

"Get the hell off me," shouted Leroy, neither man hearing the front door open with the gentle tapping of Mrs Hannigan. Rather than backing out and leaving the father and son to deal with what was clearly a family situation she interfered, making the situation ten times worse than it already was.

"Young man that's no way to speak to your father," she reprimanded him, bringing both father and son temporarily to a halt, "you should apologise immediately, in my day soap in the mouth and a good hiding would have followed that, but your poor father is grieving and you are just taking advantage. Is that why you took the cake and brownies I brought over?"

"Jenny please stay out of this," said Jackson, "I can handle my son."

"Jackson he needs to know you are hurting too and can't go around like a young hoodlum who doesn't know better," she said, not prepared to walk away and leave the family in privacy to resolve this.

"Who are calling a hoodlum you old witch," Leroy yelled at her.

It was at that point his father lost control and did something he swore he would never do, something completely out of character for him. He turned back towards his son and slapped him across his face, instantly regretting his action.

Leroy stopped dead. His face was burning crimson with the weight of the slap, the shock of the action and the fierce embarrassment it caused him. He felt humiliated now on top of everything else.

He didn't hear as his father tried to apologise to him. He didn't hear Mrs Hannigan telling him the boy had deserved it and a trip to the wood shed. All he could focus on was that he knew he needed out of there, to go much further than his two legs had been able to carry him just hours before.

He didn't hear his father telling Mrs Hannigan to get out of the house and leave them alone, and not to interfere in how he brought his son up. He was unaware that Jackson had practically bundled the woman out of the front door telling her not to return.

His eyes focused on a means to get right away from there, to be out of the stupid house, the stupid town for good. His fathers keys lay on the small oak side table in the hallway and in a flash Leroy had them in his hand and was out of the back door and around the side of the house.

He'd driven the truck before, off-road. He knew how to make it work. Before he could really think through what he was doing he was inside it with the engine on and his foot on the gas pedal.

The roar of the engine alerted Jackson to the fact that his son was gone. He pushed Jenny Hannigan out of his way and ran into the street behind the cloud of dust kicked up from the wheels of the rapidly departing truck.

"Leroy," he yelled in despair as his son vanished into the distance, "Leroy."


	4. Chapter 4

Leroy was now away, he had no idea where he was going and was struggling to see through the windshield due to the tears streaming from his eyes. He was leaving everything behind, his home, his family, friends, school. At first he had thought he had achieved freedom from everything, from guilt, grief, hurt, despair, but reality was fast dawning and all he had done was increase all of those factors, he didn't know how to make it better.

His driving was erratic, fast and he was lucky he had not yet encountered other cars on the road. The driving was out of control as were the young lads emotions. He was now at least 20 miles out of town, on some back road in Pennsylvania surrounded only by fence and sheep and the odd ramshackle shed probably housing cattle feed.

He knew he really should stop, put the brakes on, go find a way to call his Dad, apologize, get the truck collected and back to the house, face whatever punishment he had coming for this one; but still in the background an amount of anger bubbled away, simmering at a point that just wouldn't let him do what he knew he should.

As he wiped his sleeve across his eyes in a desperate attempt to better his vision on the road ahead a deer darted out and across his path. With his speed as it was, the fact that he only had one hand on the wheel and his total lack of experience in driving he could do nothing.

He tried to slam on the brakes but the vehicle was not going to react quickly enough. He yanked the wheel with the one arm still on there. The truck spun, loosing traction on the dirt road, veering off and through the rickety old fence to his right, into the field and through the old feed store 60 feet further down. There the vehicle finally came to rest.

His ribs hurt from where his body had slammed against the wheel. His head had bounced off of the window at his side and blood was pouring out of a cut above his eye. The engine to the truck was steaming, the hood crumpled beyond repair, the feed store decimated.

He couldn't move, first it hurt too much, second the door previously dented but opening with a creak was now beyond repair too and refusing to open at all not helped by the fact that one of the beams originally holding the shed together was now laying at an angle against it. Leroy tried painfully to move to the other side of the vehicle, each minor shift in position painfully reminding him of the stupidity of what he had done and the trouble he would surely be in. With a little more effort he made it over to the other side. He tried the handle but it wasn't working either.

"You alright there boy?" came an unexpected voice from outside the vehicle.

Leroy looked up into the face of a man aged in his mid to late sixties, one who clearly had spent most of his life working outside, his face showing the weather beaten countenance of a man who had known hard physical outdoor work from a young age and through all seasons.

"I'm stuck," responded Leroy.

"Give me a minute, I'll get you out of there," the man responded and with that set about moving the debris that blocked the doors and managed to pry the vehicle open. He helped Leroy down from the truck carefully but kept a hold of his arm seeing that the youngster looked like he would bolt given the chance.

"Now what say we go back to my place over there, check out that cut and talk about how you are going to help me fix this mess you've made of my feed shed and fence?" he stated, "looks like you could do with something in your belly too."

"I should be going Sir," responded Leroy, "I'll give you my address and will get the money to you to fix your stuff."

"Going hey?" mused the man, "I don't see no means of you getting out of here unless you are on foot and it's a good few miles to the next town over, you'll be needing that head fixed up first and something to eat, I won't take no for an answer."

Leroy knew the man was right, he was a little hungry, his head was pounding and he had no idea how he was going to get away. Reluctantly but ultimately having no other choice he went with the man.

Entering the house, the man sat him down at the kitchen table and took out a clean cloth and some water. "Now first lets take a look at that wound of yours, these cuts to the head sure bleed good."

Despite the delicate and soft attention to the wound applied by the man, Leroy still winced at the pain.

"So given that we are in this mess, you'd better give me your name," said the man, "I'm John."

Leroy thought about telling the truth, just confessing all, but fear of the consequences of his action formed like a clamp around his throat, allowing only lies to pass. "I'm Steve," he said, giving the name of his friend.

"So Steve you got a second name so as I can talk to your Pa about the bill for my damage?" asked John.

"I don't have a Pa," uttered Leroy the lies now flowing to cover his misdeeds, "I'm old enough to pay you back myself."

"Why you don't look a day over 13 or 14 years," commented the man.

"I'm 17 years old," lied Leroy.

"I guess you just got some growing and filling out to do then," said the man clearly seeing through Leroy's lies. "Now you didn't mention that surname of yours."

"It's Adler," said Leroy asking the situation far worse every time he opened his mouth.

"Well Steve Adler aged 17 years, I have fixed that head of yours for now but I think it needs some stitches and I'm worried you might have a concussion so we are going need to get you some help and keep an eye on you for a while, so why don't you go through to that bathroom through there, clean yourself up whilst I fix up a drink and some food," suggested John.

Not having much of an option at this point Leroy moved to the bathroom at the back of the house, locking the door behind him and sitting himself down on the side of the bath. He pulled up his shirt to take a look at his ribs and could see that the bruising was already beginning to come out.

In the house the older man had put some soup on to warm and had taken some rusty bread from the pantry. Checking he could now hear water running in the bathroom he dialed the local Sherriff, giving the details Leroy had given to him, the vehicle plate details and his suspicions about the age of the boy.

He then moved back to the bathroom. He could still hear the water running. He called out to the boy inside to say that the food was ready but he got no response. He pushed the door, it was locked but easily gave way under his force. The bathroom was empty, the window was open and the boy was gone.

He heard a clatter from just below the window. Clearly the boy had landed on the old pots and feeders he kept out the back. He hurried around to the outside just as Leroy was getting back to his feet and holding his aching ribs.

"So you thought my cooking smelt that bad that you had to run did you?" he asked.

Leroy froze as if rooted to the spot.

"Er no Sir," he answered tentatively not understanding why this man was still trying to be nice to him.

"Well then I think you'd better come and eat some before if gets cold," said John.

Leroy had no response to give, instead he followed the man back into the home.

"Go on sit yourself down and start eating," motioned the man, "I'm about fixing myself some coffee, what can I get you?"

"Er just water please," answered Leroy taking a bite of the bread.

"Coming right up," said the man.

Five minutes later both of them were sat around the table eating. No real talking coming from either. The older man watched as the boy ate. He could see a hurt in his eyes far beyond that of a boy who knew he was going to be in trouble with his father.

"So do you have family hereabouts?" he asked the boy.

"Used to," answered Leroy trying to avoid the prying questions. "They moved away."

"Too bad," said the man, "we could have called them up to come and fetch you and that truck of yours."

Leroy just nodded, bowing his head though in shame at the lies he was telling but not knowing how to get out of it.

Before he was forced to come up with an answer though there was a knock at the door and John went to answer it. Moments later he re-entered the kitchen with the local Sherriff in tow.

"Now young man," said the Sherriff, "I hear you've been having a bit of a problem with your truck."

Leroy looked up from the bowl in front of him and into the eyes of Sherriff Tanner, a friend of his fathers and someone who knew all of the local youths and their daddies.

"Yes Sir," answered Leroy, his food threatening to come back up from the pits of his stomach.

"Well I think you and me gonna take a little drive back to Stillwater and get this all fixed up don't you?" he asked.

"Yes Sir," answered Leroy, no other options available to him.

"John," said the Sherriff, "I'll ride back over in the morning to arrange picking up the truck and getting you some help with that fence, thanks for looking after him."

"No problem Sherriff, I just about recall being that age myself you know," smiled John.

With that the Sherriff led Leroy over to his car, opened the back door and gently pushed the boy into the back. Sadly it wasn't the first time he'd had to do this. Since the boy had lost his mother it seemed he'd been in more fights and scrapes than you could count on one hand, but never had the boy done something this stupid, this dangerous.

In silence they drove back to Stillwater. Once there the Sherriff proceeded to the station. This was a new departure. Previously he'd just returned the boy home, knowing that his father would take care of the punishment but this time the boy had gone too far, he needed a shock to his system.

As they drew up outside the building Leroy's eyes widened. They weren't heading home. Instead he was led into the building, made to remove his shoes and his belt and leave them outside of the cell door then told to go in and sit himself down and wait for his father to come.

The Sherriff placed a deputy outside of the door to keep an eye on the kid and made a couple of quick calls. The first to the doctor to get him to attend to take a look at the kid and the second to Jackson to say he'd got his son, found his vehicle and ask him to let him keep the boy until the morning and then come and collect him.

Leroy sat miserably on the hard wooden bench. The covering on it giving no comfort to the user at all and seemingly being of no practical purpose at all either. He picked at the blanket that had been left on there for him. Perhaps this time it was finally all over. The Sherriff had enough, had seen through his lies, had no more chances to give him. Where was he going to end up? Was John going to press charges for the damage to his property? Would the Sherriff insist on charging him for the driving offences? Would his Dad charge him with theft of the vehicle? Anger and grief and the inability to process it properly had finally landed him in more trouble than he had ever been in.

The doctor attended and checked over his ribs, bruised but not broken. He checked the wound to the head and had given him a couple of stitches and some painkillers but had deemed him fit to be detained albeit with a regular check on him for concussion.

Leroy spent the most miserable and uncomfortable night of his life in that cell, wondering if this was the sort of thing he was going to have to put up with in Juvenile Hall, wondering if his father would even come and visit him. He was being woken every hour to check he was ok. He didn't really sleep well in between times. He let tears fall down his face ashamed of what he had done and where he had landed himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Jackson was waiting outside of the doors of the County Sherriffs department next morning before Sherriff Tanner had actually got there himself. He had felt miserable leaving Leroy there all night without any contact with the boy, not even a phone call but that was part of the deal with the Sherriff. Make the boy hate being in custody and not want to end up there again and the Sherriff would then let the father have one final chance at fixing things with the lad. This was make or break. Jackson knew it was necessary and this was certainly the most serious and definitely the most dangerous stunt the kid had ever pulled, but it didn't make it any easier for him getting any sleep.

Sherriff Tanner nodded over to Jackson as he arrived and went in.

"You been waiting all night Jack?" he asked.

"Sure feels like it Sherriff," smiled Jackson, "just want to know if the kid is ok."

"Lets go find out, perhaps I can help put the fear of god into him," said the Sherriff, "had it been some of the other lads I don't think I would have been so accommodating."

"I appreciate it Sherriff, how is the chap whose farm was trashed?" asked Jackson as the two entered the office.

"He's ok," said the Sherriff, "could see that the boy was just scared and said he'd had the same look off of his own three boys when they were the same age and in the sort of trouble that your son is in now."

In the cell area Leroy who was propped up on the bed had heard people enter the building. He could see his father talking to the Sherriff. He watched as they both kept looking over to him. He could see their lips moving but couldn't hear what was being said. He needed to learn to lip read.

He stood on the bench trying to see better what was happening only to incur the wrath of the Deputy who was watching over him and had had the job of waking him hourly through the night.

"Sit your self down Gibbs," he ordered.

"Sorry Sir," answered Leroy, immediately complying with the order.

"You should make the most of sitting on that bench kid," said the guard, "cos that look on your Daddy's face says that you are likely in for one hell of an ass whooping and rightly so."

"That's's enough," barked the Sherriff who had arrived at the cell door, "you can go Mike."

He looked through the cell bars to where the kid was sat, the signs of his tears still evident on his cheeks and it looked like he'd had a rough night. Still he thought, he couldn't drop his authoritarian role now, the kid needed him to do his job.

"Stand up Gibbs," he ordered. "How's the head?"

"Fine Sir," came the muted and mumbled reply.

"Wash your face and get your shirt tucked in then," ordered the Sherriff.

Leroy complied without any argument and immediately. The Sherriff opened the cell door and passed him his shoes and belt.

"You can carry them out with you," he stated, "you follow that line there, you hear."

"Yes Sir," answered Leroy complying.

He felt the Sherriff's hand on the back of his shoulders, guiding him along the line to the charging room. As he entered he saw his father in the room who fixed him with a stare, but was secretly checking the boy over for signs of injury. Leroy automatically dropped his head in shame. For his father to see him here like this at a police station was humiliating. Everything that had happened up to this point, everything that had been said between the two paled into insignificance. He realized just what he had thrown away with his anger.

"Lift your head up Gibbs and look straight ahead to the camera," ordered the Sherriff.

This was it thought Leroy, he was being charged, this might be the last time he saw his father outside of custody for years.

"Turn to your right," ordered the Sherriff and a further photo was taken, "Now to your left."

Silently Leroy did as he was told. Each time he turned he caught a glimpse of his father stood quietly in the corner, shame and heartbreak showing in equal measures on his face. It tore at Leroy's heart. He could feel his throat constricting and he was fighting to keep down the nausea, keep in the tears and simply to breathe without breaking down into a puddle on the floor.

"Place your shoes and belt on the counter," came the next command.

Leroy was then fingerprinted and handed a cloth to attempt to remove the ink from his fingers.

"Now listen to me carefully Gibbs," said the Sherriff commanding the young mans attention, "I am keeping your details and documents here along with reports of your misdeeds and I am giving you one final chance. Mess it up and these documents get filed and you go to Juvenile Hall with the officers there knowing you had a chance and screwed it up."

Leroy could no longer hold the tears back. His Dad wanted just to step forward and hold him, let him cry, tell him he loved him but he needed to hold on just a little longer, carry through his part of this bargain too, make sure his son never again ended up in this position.

"Leroy," said the Sherriff, "I know you are a good kid, I know you can be a great man, but you have to give yourself a chance, promise me that you will try."

"I will Sir," Leroy choked back a sob, "I'm sorry Sir."

"Hey kid, don't keep saying you are sorry, it's just a sign of weakness, you know, telling people that you are flawed, far better that you allow yourself to show people your strengths," stated Sherriff Tanner, "the bravest thing you can do is to walk out of that door, talk to your father, make amends for what you have done and don't ever look back, if you can promise me you'll do that I shouldn't ever have to hear you say sorry and show me your weaknesses again. Do you think you are man enough to do that?"

Sniffing loudly and swallowing the hard lump in his throat Leroy nodded and then raising his head and meeting the Sherriffs gaze head on with a renewed gleam in his watery eyes he answered, "Yes Sir, I am."

"Then get out of my station Gibbs," said the Sherriff, "and start showing me."

Leroy bent down to put his sneakers back on and started to thread the belt back through his jeans. The buckling of his belt seemed to take ages, as if his fingers were trying to delay what he knew was now about to come. When he finally stepped through the front doors of the station into the early morning sunshine, the warmth of the sun felt like it never had before. He stopped for a minute drinking it in, thinking that he had come so close to missing out on this moment.

The warmth on his face was met by the warmth of his father's hand on the back of his neck. "Come on son, lets go and get this one sorted out for good."

"Yes Sir," replied Leroy. "Dad I know what Sherriff Tanner said but I am so sorry." He turned and hugged his father in the middle of the street. Jackson could feel a fresh set of tears falling onto his shoulder. He pulled his son closer into him and held his head to him.

"I know you are son," he whispered, "and it's never wrong to show our flaws and weaknesses to family, they're in a different category, the one that needs to know all about them so that we can help put them right and that's what we are going to do when we get home. You and me are going to talk, no-one else, just the two of us. You understand?"

"Yes Dad," cried Leroy.

"Come on then," said Jackson handing his son a fresh cotton handkerchief to wipe his face with, "we need coffee, we need food, we need openness and honesty and we need to make amends."

"It's going to hurt isn't it?" asked Leroy.

"Yes probably but not as much as we will hurt our hearts if we don't get through this together," said Jackson.


	6. Chapter 6

Jackson pottered around the kitchen and cooked up a breakfast which he plated and placed down on the table in front of Leroy before joining him with his own. He pored himself a strong coffee and was about to pour Leroy a glass of milk when he caught the kids eye, "what is it Leroy?"

"Dad when you said earlier we needed food, well…" Leroy paused, "you also said that we needed coffee and I wondered whether I could have coffee Sir, I mean I know I don't deserve it and all that and I'm hardly in a position to ask for any favours and I know I'm only 14 but I know people often drink it to give them the power to get through tough situations and well I'm guessing I've got a pretty tough one coming up and er well, I er," he paused again, "I could do with all the power and help I can find."

Jackson looked into the eyes of his son, holding Leroy's chin in his hand and carefully studying his face.

"I'm sorry Sir, I didn't mean to be cheeky, it's just that I'm scared," mumbled Leroy.

"I know you must be Son," said Jackson, "but I'm guessing that if you are man enough to meet this problem head on with me and not run out on it then you are grown up enough to have a coffee, go grab a mug."

Leroy rose to fetch a mug from the cabinet, "thank you Dad."

Jackson watched as Leroy manfully tried to drink down the bitter brew without shuddering and pretended he didn't see Leroy pop several sugars into it when he thought his Dad wasn't watching.

"You finished with that plate Leroy?" asked Jackson as Leroy pushed the last piece of egg around his plate.

"Yes Sir, I'm sorry I can't finish it all," replied Leroy.

"That's fine, go put it in the sink and then go and wait for me in the living room, I'll be through in a few minutes ok," said Jackson who was no more looking forward to this than was his son.

Leroy nodded and went and sat on the couch.

When Jackson finally came into the room, Leroy went to stand, as he had always been made to in the past at the point where he accepted his wrong doing and accept his punishment. He'd been thinking it over in his mind throughout the walk home, throughout breakfast and again whilst waiting for his father, he wanted to be a man and own up to his mistakes. However Jackson spoke first.

"Leroy, you and me need to sit and talk, both of us, so take a seat son," he started.

"Dad, I know what I did wrong and I'm prepared to accept it Sir," responded Leroy still standing.

"I know you are Leroy and we will get to that point but I think we both need to work out what got the both of us into this position and why we feel like we do, 'cos I tell you now son, I'm don't think I've got it in me to lose you, or watch you processed through a Sherriff's office again," he stated.

Leroy sat back onto the couch whilst his dad pulled up the footstool in front of him and sat down too.

"I did a lot of thinking last night Leroy, about you and me and how it's been since we lost mom," began Jackson, "and I owe you an apology Son."

Leroy was taken aback. "Dad you don't owe me anything, it's me that's been behaving like a brat and acting out."

"Yeah you have but I tried to look at what was making you act out and I worked out that I am responsible for a lot of that, so I'm going to start by owning up to my part and trying to explain how I feel and I'd like you to listen to me first and then I would like you to tell me how you feel and why. Then we are going to work out how we stop this happening again, ok?"

"Yes Sir," answered Leroy.

"Good, then let me tell you about your mom and me," he stated, "you know I never loved another woman like I loved your mom, and I loved her even more the day she gave me you. If she had never given me anything again in her life I wouldn't have cared a damn, but your mom, well she never did stop giving. No-one is ever going to be able to replace that."

He looked into his son's eyes, "I mean it Leroy, I really do and I need you to know that, but it doesn't mean that I wasn't foolish enough to look for ways of lessening that loss and replacing some of those things I loved about your mom. I thought that having people my age to talk to about her and laugh about the old times would help ease my pain, and when they brought cookies and cake and brownies, none of them as good as hers, I thought it might replace some of those special little things she did to make me and you smile."

He allowed tears to start falling down his face. Leroy had never seen his Dad cry openly before, at least not in front of him, he'd heard him once or twice in the nights after his mom passed, crying in his bed late at night when he thought Leroy was asleep, but never in front of his son.

"Dad you don't need to do this," Leroy begged him, "please Dad I don't like seeing you upset."

"No Son, if I don't get this out now, it's going to poison our relationship and I can't let that happen. You see in everything that was going on I forgot the one thing that made me love her the most, and that was you. I guess you and me well we are similar in many ways, both bad at showing emotions and when you lock them away you become blind to the very thing that can help you. We should have talked, we were the only two that knew what it was like to really lose her, I should have seen you for the man I know you are becoming but I thought I was protecting you like the little boy that you once were. I got it wrong, can't always pretend I will get it right from now on but I'd like to try, I just need you to tell me properly like an adult when I'm being over protective and I need you to recognize that as a father you aren't ever going to get me to completely drop that act, not even when you are as old and as grey as me. You're my son, it's my job to worry about you. You think you can help me out on this?"

"Yes Dad," answered Leroy, "does that mean that Mrs Hannigan and the others won't be coming around again?"

"Mrs Hannigan, no, won't have no stranger telling me what to do with my son," he answered, "but I hope you might allow me to have a few of the others here on occasions so that I can share your moms stories with them. I promise it won't be as often and I can assure you that I am not going to let any of them replace your mom, they never could in any respect."

"Do I need to apologise to Mrs Hannigan for destroying her food and calling her a witch?" asked Leroy.

"I think that if you don't say something to her then you will hang onto that guilt," said Jackson, "but perhaps writing her a letter to say it might be a better idea than facing her."

"Yes Sir, I'll do that and I want you to know that I know it's not acceptable to go around using language like that and especially not to ladies and I won't do it again, well I promise I will try my best not to ever," said Leroy. "And I can try to get used to seeing those other ladies here but I am struggling with that."

"What's the biggest problem with it all Leroy?" asked Jackson.

"Please don't be angry if I tell you," asked Leroy.

"I told you son this is a talk man to man, no shouting, no lies, laying ourselves open so that we can move forward," responded Jackson.

"Well I know you don't see them as replacing mom, but they see themselves as doing just that, I see the look on their faces and them fluttering their eyelashes at you, and pretending to be nice and motherly to me to win you over, and I hear the kids at school talking about you being the eligible bachelor that all the single ladies of the town are after and it hurts me, I know it shouldn't but if other people are saying all that how long will it be until even just a little bit of it comes true?"

Jackson sat in shock; he'd not for a minute thought about what the women's intentions were, all he was sure of is that his own intentions didn't include finding a new mom for his son.

"Leroy, I'm sorry I never thought of it like that, never saw it from that side of things at all, guess I never looked at it from any other point of view than mine and I guess that you were left just to try to work out what all the intentions were not really knowing any side of it at all," said Jackson.

"I thought it was what you wanted," said Leroy, "I was angry at you."

"Is that why you and me haven't been able to talk properly before now?" asked Jackson.

"I guess so," muttered Leroy, "in part anyway."

"Can you tell me what other things are making it difficult?"

"It's that I don't think you have told me the truth about why mom died," said Leroy, "I feel you are hiding something really important from me, is it something I did to make her worse, is that why you aren't telling me?"

"Oh god no Leroy," cried Jackson, "how have I made you feel that?"

"It's just that I know she was ill, but she was still here, she was still mom and I know she got tired really easy, and was sick quite a lot and we had that argument about me going to the football game the night she died and you had wanted me to forego the game to help you out at the store with the audit because Clive was on vacation and we needed to get it done real quick. I know mom got upset when we argued, and I heard her start crying as I went out of the door, and then when I came home she was gone and the police and the medics were here and I never got to say I was sorry to her, or tell her I loved her again or say goodbye. My behaviour killed her."

Jackson couldn't believe that he had missed his son thinking this. To be honest that night had been a blur after he returned home from the pharmacist, he'd forgot about the raging battle that had ensued between himself and Leroy about the game. He had never dreamed that the kid would blame himself for his mothers death.

"You must never think that anything you or I did killed her," cried Jackson, moving to the couch beside his son and pulling him into his embrace, "she was ill, she was dying and they couldn't make her better."

"I know all of that Dad," said Leroy pulling away thinking that his Dad was still not telling him everything, "but I'm not stupid, I know she went from ill to dead really quickly, too quickly and the only thing that I can see that happened that night that upset that could have made her worse was me and my behaviour."

"Leroy, you didn't kill her, you didn't make her worse," pleaded Jackson not knowing how to tell his son the truth on this.

"But something happened Dad, I wasn't gone that long and when I came back she was gone, perhaps I didn't see how ill she was, perhaps I missed something, I should have known and I could have done something, she might still be here, we could have had longer together," Leroy was now distraught.

"Leroy there was nothing you could have done, there was nothing either of us could have done, she didn't want to suffer anymore son, she didn't want us to see her get steadily more poorly to the point that we wouldn't recognize her or remember her as she was when she was well, she chose to go, she chose the time, she thought that we would both be out doing that audit, she upped her morphine to take the pain away, to take control back over the illness," Jackson was desperate to explain but didn't know how to finally say it.

"You're saying she killed herself," cried Leroy.

"Son, she was trying to save us from seeing her in more pain," tried Jackson.

"Dad just say it, stop making excuses, she killed herself," shouted Leroy.

"Yes Son, she did but she did it for all the reasons I'm telling you," Jackson held onto his son, who screamed out loud and beat his fists against his fathers chest, "why didn't you tell me, you made me hate you, did you want to leave me too?"

Jackson shook his son to try to stop him, "Leroy listen to me, you have to listen."

He persisted, "she loved you to the end."

"No she didn't or she would have stayed," screamed Leroy. "She left me, and she made me feel guilty."

"She never meant it to be like that," said Jackson not knowing what to do except for hold onto his son.

"Did you know?" suddenly asked Leroy.

"Know what?" replied Jackson confused.

"That's why you wanted me to go with you to the audit isn't it, so I'd be out of the house, so I wouldn't know, you knew and you were going to stop me from being there," accused Leroy.

"That's not true Leroy, I didn't know either, she left both of us," said Jackson.

"Then how do you know why she did it?" asked Leroy.

"Because she left me a note Son, she told me in a letter."

The two clung to each other. Neither speaking further. Leroy finally falling asleep, his father holding his head in his lap and stroking his hair in a vain attempt to try to soothe his son.

Leroy slept for seven straight hours, the crash, the night in jail, the conversation with his father had taken it out of him, there was still more to be said, still more to be done, but they had made a start.


	7. Chapter 7

As Leroy began to wake it took him a moment to figure out where he was and what he was doing there. Laid on the couch, a soft pillow below his head and a light blanket over the top of him, carefully tucked around him. He had dreamt about his mom, the apple pie with chocolate sauce she said she prepared for him and only him, the wooden boat he and his dad had made for her and had sailed regularly on the lake in the park, the holidays together, picnics they had been on… and then he remembered she was gone and now he knew how even if he struggled to understand why.

As his eyes blinked against the light he saw that his Dad had fallen asleep on the floor next to the couch, propped up against the foot of the couch as if on guard watching over his son.

Then Leroy remembered what had led to the conversation and the memories. He and his father still hadn't discussed that and he knew that he was still in a whole heap of trouble.

He slowly tried to extricate himself from the blanket to get up to go to the bathroom, trying desperately not to wake his father, but the slightest movement immediately alerted Jackson.

"You alright Son, you need something?" he asked trying to focus his eyes.

"Sorry I didn't mean to wake you, I just needed to go and pee," said Leroy.

"Here help your old man up first, I'll get us a drink," said Jackson extending a hand out to Leroy, "you want another coffee?"

"Er could I just have a glass of milk Dad?" asked Leroy.

"Sure, don't think we have enough sugar in the house for you to take up drinking coffee on a regular basis," smiled his Dad.

When Leroy returned from the bathroom he went to join his father in the kitchen. The glass of milk and a cheese sandwich was waiting for him on the table.

"Figured we might need to eat something before we start talking again," said Jackson, "go on sit yourself down and tuck in."

"Thanks Dad," said Leroy picking up the milk and taking a sip, "er do we have to talk right away?"

"We got a lot we need to cover if we are going to sort this Leroy," said his father fixing him with a serious look.

"That's not quite what I meant Sir," replied Leroy.

"Well you'd better explain so I understand," said Jackson.

"I know I need to answer for what I did and I've done a lot of thinking about it Sir," Leroy started.

"That's good to hear," nodded his father.

"Can we please get that over with and out of the way first before we talk about other stuff?" asked Leroy, "Waiting for it is playing on my mind and I just need to know we can move past it, so the Sherriff knows that I have been punished and accepted what I did wrong, so you can forgive me."

He watched as his father mulled the request over.

"Leroy I'm not sure that kind of punishment is going to work in this case," said Jackson, "I mean we tried it before when you took those magazines from my store for the boys at school and here we are again. Maybe we need to try something different."

"Does that mean I need to go cut a switch?" asked Leroy paling visibly. He knew his dad had always threatened that if he repeatedly committed the same bad behaviour he would use a switch on him. Some of the boys at school had been switched by their dads and had shown him and the other boys the marks it had left on their behinds when they were in the locker room. Leroy had never been stupid enough to repeat the same bad behaviour in such a way as to incur the switch; the threat of it was enough to remind him to control himself.

"No, that's not what I mean," said Jackson, "what I mean is you've been through a rough few hours already and I don't think you're ever likely to do anything this stupid again. You've had a night in lock up, your details are being held by the Sherriff and will be hanging over your head for a while, me and you together are going to go out and recover the truck and fix up that fence and feed store and you have that letter to write too. You can add in the fact that you are grounded too."

"But you haven't made me tell you what I did wrong," said Leroy, "you always make me admit it and pay the price for it, and I'm ready to do that Dad, it's what you do isn't it, to be a man, take responsibility, if you can't do the time don't do the crime?"

Jackson watched his son, an amount of pride in the young man he saw stood before him in the kitchen.

"Leroy, maybe that was the past when you were a little boy, and it didn't stop all this now, it's just that I thought we should try something different, because what happened in the past doesn't seem to have worked," said Jackson.

"Dad, please don't give up on me," pleaded Leroy.

"I'm not," responded Jackson.

"But the Sherriff and Child Services might think you are and they might take me away from you Dad," Leroy could feel tears beginning to form already.

"When I was in the jail, I wasn't sure they would let me out or that you would come and visit me in Juvenile Hall," mumbled Leroy, "I thought I had pushed it too far this time, beyond anything that you could forgive me for and I know that in the past when I have paid for what I've done you've always told me I'm forgiven and I know this time it will have to be a big price, but I need you to know that I am ready to take it, I mean I don't really want it but I will do whatever I need to make amends, to prove to you I'm sorry, to prove to you that I will never do anything like this again, and I'll do all of that other stuff too and help you out more at the store to help pay you back for the damage to the truck and Dad I promise I'll talk to you and won't act like a brat again, but please don't give up on me. Dad I'll do anything but please don't give up on me. I can't take this guilt."

Jackson was on his feet before Leroy had finished speaking. He took Leroy into a hug and kissed the top of his head as he tucked him in under his chin, albeit noticing that he wouldn't be able to do that much longer if the boy kept growing at the rate he was.

"Are you sure about this Son?" he asked, "you know it's gonna hurt and you are already hurting."

"Yes Dad," nodded Leroy, "I think I need to, I feel so bad, so guilty, I keep thinking what mom would have thought if she had known I'd pull a stupid stunt like this."

"She would have scolded you, and then begged me not to take all of that skin off of that butt of yours," smiled Jackson recalling how she had always tried to act tough with their son in these matters but really just wanted to make sure he was ok, "and don't think I didn't know about the pie and chocolate sauce she would sneak up to you when my back was turned."

"So shall I go and wait for you in the woodshed Sir?" asked Leroy.

"No, not there," said Jackson, "although this would ordinarily merit the strap and all on the bare, I don't think your ribs are up to bending over that wood pile, I want you to go and wait in my room, the bed is higher and softer."

Jackson watched as his son made his way up the stairs. He didn't know where the hell he was going to find the strength to do this. It hurt him at the best of times to make his son suffer, no parent really wanted to do this, but maybe he had to, for Leroy's sake. He fished the wooden paddle out of the kitchen drawer where it lived after Leroy had been made to make it one year and turned it over in his hands. Each time he used it he prayed that he would never have to use it again.

He trudged up the stairs and into his room. Leroy was stood at the foot of the bed, almost as if at attention.

"So Leroy, tell me what you've been thinking over," said Jackson, "I want you to get it all off of your chest."

"Sir, I know right from wrong, you and mom made sure of that, I guess that night I just forgot how to be able to control it. I was angry, I didn't come and talk to you like I should and I took that cake and ran away with it and destroyed it just like a little kid in a tantrum. I should know better, I'm 14 and almost grown up," said Leroy. Jackson could tell he had clearly put a lot of thought into this and was doing well to be this forthcoming in any conversation.

"You are right," nodded Jackson, "but as I said before we both hold the blame for not talking and you're going to fix the taking of the cakes in that letter you write. I will not be punishing you for that twice."

"Yes Sir," said Leroy, taking a breath and preparing for his next confession. "Well then there's the way I spoke to you in the hallway and what I said to Mrs Hannigan and I will apologise to her in the letter even though I really don't like her. I know I have to work on my temper, I know it's gotten me into trouble in the past."

"Once again I agree with everything you say. Speaking like you did to adults and ladies in particular is never going to be acceptable in this family. Your temper needs to be controlled and I have seen you do it so I know you are capable of it. We'll work on it together, seems I need to as well. I should never have slapped you across the face. That was not acceptable and I will never do it again and I hope you can forgive me. For that reason I will not add anything to your punishment for how you spoke to me."

"I do forgive you Dad, I was out of line," said Leroy.

"Son, we both were," said Jackson, "your mother would never have let me hear the last of it, she'd have been disappointed in me."

"In me too," said Leroy, dropping his head for a minute, "do you think she would have forgiven me?"

"She would have forgiven you anything," smiled Jackson placing a finger under his sons chin and raising it up, "she might not have let you forget it but she would have forgiven you. So shall we move on?"

Nodding his agreement Leroy prepared himself for the big ones. Taking a car that he was not permitted to drive, or old enough to drive on the roads, insured to drive and speeding away without a thought to his or anyone else's safety was, in his mind, unforgivable.

"Sir, I knew that stealing your truck was wrong in all kinds of ways. I think at the time I just wanted to make you as mad as I felt but now I know all I did was commit lots of real life offences and risk my own life and that of everyone else around me," he paused looking into his fathers face, he saw a change from the man who did not want to punish his child any further to one who wanted to make damn sure that his kid never did anything this moronic again. Leroy gulped, "and then I made it worse by lying to the farmer and pretending to be Steve."

"How do you think Steve's dad would have felt when the Sherriff called him to make sure his son hadn't been involved in stealing a car and crashing it?" asked Jackson.

"I never stopped to think about that, I was just trying to save my own butt by lying Sir," said Leroy, "he must have felt sick to the gut. I'd like to be allowed to go around there and apologise to him and Steve too."

"You can, we'll both go after Church tomorrow on the way out to the farm," said Jackson.

"Yes Sir," answered Leroy, "thank you."

"You might want to hold off on yours thanks just yet Leroy, I'm sure you aren't gonna want to thank me when we are through with this," he warned.

"Probably not," agreed Leroy, "but I knew I had it coming."

"Well shall we get it over with then?" said Jackson, "grab those pillows to put under your ribs, it'll protect your chest a bit more."

"Ok but its also gonna mean that you can paddle the bit of my butt that hurts the most easier," moaned Leroy.

"Well it will save getting you to move position too much," replied Jackson.

"Now you can leave your jeans on for this first bit with the paddle, but I'm going to be finishing off with ten licks with the strap and those will be on the bare, understand?"

Leroy nodded, struggling to open his mouth to respond.

"Son I need a verbal answer," commanded Jackson.

"I understand Sir," said Leroy, "I'm just not looking forward to it Sir."

"Ok, well get yourself turned around and laid over that bed then," said Jackson trying to sound more confident about this than he was actually feeling.

Leroy turned and placed himself over the pillows, holding onto the quilt with both fists and knowing this was going to be painful.

His Dad began the first round of four swats, one to each butt cheek and each sit spot. He had his other hand placed in the small of his sons back and he lectured as he went.

"Son it is never going to be acceptable to take something that isn't yours, especially when you do it out of anger and to try to deliberately anger other people."

He began the second round of swats. He could feel the tension in his sons back. "Leroy don't hold this in, breathe and cry and shout all you need to," he said, "the sooner you do the sooner this will be over."

Leroy nodded into the duvet but he wanted to show his Dad he could take this punishment like a man, take full responsibility for his crimes.

Jackson began again. "Your momma and me raised you to be a honest, decent individual. When you do something like this you let yourself down. You are better than this."

Leroy could feel the first tears starting to fall down his cheeks. Still he didn't call out.

Jackson began the third round, "To then lie about it and give a false name and details and to potentially get your best friend into serious trouble and scare his Daddy in the same way as you scared me is totally unacceptable son."

Leroy was now gasping, his stoic front was crumbling.

Jackson knew this part was nearing the end. "I only ever want you to be the best you can be. I will not let you through away your future because you cannot control your temper, I love you too much for that."

Leroy was now openly hissing at the pain. No longer trying to bravely battle through it without even a whimper.

"Stand up son," said Jackson, helping his son to his feet. "I need you to lower your jeans, you should probably take them off all together, I don't think you are going to want to put them back on. When you are ready lean back over the bed."

Leroy slowly lowered his jeans, the denim rubbed against his butt which already felt as if it was on fire. He kicked the jeans to the side and turned back around, letting his boxers drop to his knees as he did. This was going to sting.

Jackson looked at the reddening butt of his son. He looked over to the photo of his wife on the bedside table, silently promising her he wouldn't skin the kid alive. Taking a deep steadying breath himself he picked up the belt from the dresser.

"Son, these ten licks are for the danger you put yourself in when you took off like that, when you risked your health and that of everyone else around you, you are lucky that I'm not stood at the side of your grave or watching you sentenced by a judge for vehicular manslaughter."

Leroy began to sob loudly, the words having just as much effect as any belt would.

Jackson stopped the lecturing and focused on the next part. Once again holding his hand against the small of his sons back. He brought the belt down onto Leroy's butt, not with full force, but enough to make it count, he felt his son buck under his hand and then still again. He delivered another 5 with a similar response and an audible gasp or grunt from his son. With the last four Leroy gave up any attempt of fighting the pain and yelled out, his body no longer stiffened and trying to resist the application of force on it.

Jackson dropped to the floor at the side of Leroy. "Promise me we'll never have to go through anything like this again Son."

He knelt there, waiting as the kids breathing returned to something close to normal, as the sobs turned to quieter sniffles. He would have stayed there all night with him if he had to, carding his hand through his sons hair, rubbing calming circles on his back, but Leroy began to move and Jackson allowed him to pull himself up properly on the bed, and re-adjust his boxers.

"Why don't you lay there a while," he said.

"Thanks Dad," sniffed Leroy.

"That's ok, we put this behind us now right, we fix the other bits together, but me and you we put this behind us," said Jackson.

Leroy nodded and laid his head onto his Dad's pillow, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

"Do you think mom would forgive me?" he asked.

"Absolutely," replied Jackson. "Of that I am sure."

He then left his son to rest for a short while, heading down stairs, only to return 15 minutes later to find Leroy had drifted off to sleep again. He reached over to the nightstand and placed down the plate and fork he carried with the piece of apple pie and a covering of chocolate sauce.

The gentle noise of it being placed down was enough to wake Leroy who turned his head to his Dad and said, "are you sure it was mom who always snook the apple pie and sauce up to me?"

Jackson sat down on the edge of the bed, leant forward and kissed his cheek. "Yes but as I told you, I always knew about it."

"Dad?" asked Leroy.

"Yes what is it?" replied Jackson.

"Can I borrow your overalls tomorrow for working in, they're a bit loser than mine?"

Jackson chuckled, "I'm sure we can find some way to stop them falling off of you."

"Good," replied Leroy, "and Dad?"

"Yes?" replied Jackson.

"Do you think that the Preacher would mind if I wore them to Church?" he tried his luck.

"Yup, I bet he would, he'd say that there is no better way for a young man to repent than to turn up smartly dressed, sit uncomfortably on one of his wooden pews with a sore backside listening to his sermon."

"Oh," he replied, "do you think all Preachers would be the same, I mean perhaps we could go to a different Church tomorrow?"

"Son, let me tell you from my own bitter experience, that they all take a great deal of pride on re-enforcing the lessons that the parents have taught the child," Jackson sympathised with him, "but I've found that it is sometimes possible to shuffle a kneeling cushion under your butt to lesson the agony."


	8. Chapter 8

As Gibbs stirred in the armchair in Tony's living room, his neck sore from the awkward angle at which it had come to rest, a faint smile passed across his face. As much as the memories of his own run in with the law and his father carried an amount of pain the ending was one he took the greatest comfort from.

The Church service had been long, boring and it seemed that every bit of it was aimed at reminding him to behave himself. The pain and discomfort in his backside, albeit partially padded by the use of no less than three kneeling cushions, had done the best job in reminding him. He'd tried to get a fourth cushion under there but his father had caught his arm and whispered into his ear that you could push a privilege too far and lose the lot.

The Sherriff had been over to speak to him after the service and he had assured him that he and his Dad had talked and were dealing with things so that he would never do it again. The Sherriff had told him he had seen him walking a little awkwardly and had asked if he'd had a spanking. Gibbs had gone bright crimson on his other cheeks and the Sherriff knew by the boys reactions that the father and son had not just been talking.

The visit out to Steve's house had been worrying. Had he ruined a good friendship? Would Steve's Dad let the two of them hang out together anymore? He remembered how awkwardly he had started the apology with Mr Adler glaring down at him, and then telling him exactly how it had felt to think that his son might not only have stolen a car but then crashed it. How he had to go and find his son and drag him out of a movie theatre to make sure he was there and unhurt.

Steve had told him about worrying that his dad might not believe him when he said he wasn't involved in anyway and then how worried he'd been about his best friend and the trouble he had gotten himself into.

Gibbs had been forced to reveal to them how he had spent the night in jail, how he and his Dad were going to put things right and how much his backside had paid the price of his behaviour. Steve had shown him the sympathy of a young man not unfamiliar with the treatment himself and his father had nodded sagely, approving of the punishment and stating he had hoped that Gibbs had learnt from it.

What Gibbs had considered the most valuable lesson was that which took place at the farm with him dressed in his dads overalls with a belt tied around the waist to keep them up and the legs tucked into his boots to stop him tripping over the length. He and his father had worked side by side. With that he knew that his father would stand with him no matter what, and that hard work, toil and physical exertion helped with the feeling that you were paying something back for what you had done wrong. It was a cleansing feeling. One of accomplishment and pride mixed with the memory of why you were there in the first place. That memory stayed strongest.

Gibbs' eyes flickered open as the first light of the day was making its way between the slats of the partially opened blinds in Tony's living room.

His son was still curled up on the sofa, no doubt needing the sleep. He got up quietly and went to the kitchen to look what food Tony did have in the house. He made some sandwiches and a flask of soup and packed them into a bag, also grabbing a couple of bottles of water to go with it.

He wandered off to the bathroom and washed his face and hair and searched Tony's bathroom cabinet for the razor he knew he'd once left there. Popping then into the bedroom to borrow back one of his t-shirts and marine corps sweatshirts. When he entered the living room again Tony was sitting up on the sofa.

"Dad what are you doing here?" he asked somewhat bewildered.

"I said I wasn't going to leave you alone with this," replied Gibbs, as if the answer was obvious.

"But I told you…oh god Dad I'm sorry I didn't mean to….I was angry and worried about what you were going to do… and I didn't mean to swear at you," Tony rushed out.

"I know Tony, you're not the first son to mouth off at his Dad you know," said Gibbs, "trust me we've all been there and then instantly regretted it."

"Er dad when you say instantly, do you mean er now, before I go in to work?" asked Tony wondering how his father was going to deal with this.

"No later when we are going to talk," Gibbs fixed him with a look to show him that he wasn't getting out of this

"Have you been here all night?" asked Tony, trying to change the subject.

"Yep, couldn't bring myself to drive out of your parking lot, so I let myself back in, you left the door open you know?" he said.

"Had other things on my mind," mumbled Tony recalling what had got them into this position in the first place.

"I guessed as much and we will need to talk about that at some point too Tony, but that's not what I'm worried about at the moment," Gibbs said. "Look go and get yourself ready for work and we'll talk on the way in, oh and pack some stuff for tonight too, you're staying at mine."

"You're grounding me?" asked Tony.

"We'll see, but I'm not leaving you here alone and with no food and no time to go out and do the shopping," said Gibbs, "so come on hurry up or you'll be late."

Tony hadn't got it in him to argue back. Truth be told he didn't really want to be alone, he did need to eat something other than pizza, and he felt guilty about how he'd spoken to his dad the night before.

Fifteen minutes later as they both sat in the car heading into the navy base, Gibbs felt he needed to break the silence that hung between them.

"So what exactly has Vance got you doing Son?" he asked.

"All the schlepping, sweeping, carrying, indexing, all the mind numbing stuff," he answered, his head sinking onto his chest, "I guess it was the least I deserved."

"And did he ask you why you stole all of that chocolate?" asked Gibbs trying to get Tony to open up to him.

"No Sir," murmured Tony, "I guess he was more concerned about the amount I took."

"So how much did you take?" asked Gibbs who only knew about the 4 bars taken on the day they met in the bar and the three the day before that. As well as various bars and other items from the machine taken in the week before. All of the other CCTV had been over written as per the normal working practice for re-using the disc space after 7 days.

"I'm not sure Sir," mumbled Tony desperately trying to avoid answering at all.

"I don't think that's right do you Son," commented Gibbs, "you must at least know how long and roughly how often you did it."

"Please can we leave it dad?" begged Tony, "look I'm being punished for it by the Director, can't we just leave it at that?"

"Tony punishments only work if you fully understand what it is you are being punished for and why you did it in the first place, you know that I've told you often enough in the past," explained Gibbs.

"I just wanted the chocolate ok," answered Tony, the tone of his voice getting angry again.

"You still haven't answered how long this has been going on for," stated Gibbs, "and calm down I don't want to argue with you I just want to know what to do to help."

Tony just went quiet on him, this was going to be harder than others found getting information out of him, the master of the monosyllabic response and Tony was normally the chatterbox of the team. Whatever was wrong went deep.

Gibbs tried a different tack, "did you sleep ok last night?" he asked, "I know how you usually hate sleeping on the couch."

"It was ok," said Tony, "I was tired."

"Sounded like you were dreaming pretty heavily," Gibbs tried to subtly slide in to the conversation.

"Yeah, must have, don't recall it though," said Tony avoiding looking at his dad as he lied to him yet again. The dreams had actually been pretty vivid. The first had scared him and took him back to a time he didn't want to remember, the second a time he was still ashamed about although no longer felt guilty about.

"I dreamt you know," said Gibbs, "strong powerful dream about a time when I got into so much trouble for stealing from your Granddad."

"You stole from Granddad?" asked Tony, "What did you take?"

"A fruit cake, eight brownies and his truck," sighed Gibbs, "crashed the truck too, straight through a fence and a feed store."

"You stole a vehicle?" asked Tony shocked. "How old were you?"

"I was 14," said Gibbs. "Your Grandma had just died and I was really acting out, temper tantrums, fights, anything to try to get over her loss and the guilt I felt about it."

"Did Granddad catch you?" asked Tony.

"No it was a farmer called John and Sherriff Tanner," said Gibbs, "spent the night in jail, got grounded, got my ass whooped and a whole load of other things to deal with but you know what I remember most about it all?"

"I'm guessing the ass whooping," said Tony, "probably closely followed by a night in jail."

"You put the ass whooping higher on the list than a night in jail?" asked Gibbs with a wry grin on his face.

"Well I have experienced a spanking from Granddad and a night in jail, albeit I was innocent," said Tony.

"Not every time," Gibbs reminded him.

"Yeah but they weren't for a staring role in Gone in 60 Seconds," replied Tony.

"No but they did get you in trouble, and anyway this is getting away from the point I was trying to make," said Gibbs, "which is that the thing I recall most is my Dad coming with me to help me mend the fence and the feed store, not leaving me all alone to my punishment."

"Er you aren't planning on just dropping me off at work are you?" asked Tony.

"Nope," answered his Dad, "I thought I'd do some schlepping with you."

"Dad you don't have to, I'm not sure the Director will like it," said Tony, "and anyway it's my problem to fix."

"That's where you're wrong on both counts Tony," he replied, "It's Saturday and the Director will not be in and most importantly I'm trying to show you that you aren't alone and no matter what you do I will always be there to help you put it right, you just have to have the courage to tell me, we both know that I will be disappointed when you do stupid things, angry when you endanger yourself but I will never stop loving you and you will never stop being my son, no matter how old you get or how much you piss me off. You know I'm pretty damn hard to get rid of."

"You're not going to try to make me talk about it all are you," said Tony, "cos I don't think I can take that at the moment."

"It's up to you Tony," said Gibbs, "but I think we both know that we will need to try to sort this out at some point son."

"So are you really going to help with the sweeping up and stuff?" asked Tony, "or will you be more in a supervising me sort of role."

"Nah, I told you both of us together," said Gibbs as they pulled into the parking space.

"I'll get you some coveralls then," said Tony climbing out of the car.

Gibbs smiled to himself.

"What's amusing you?" asked Tony.

"When your Granddad last told me he'd get me some coveralls I had asked him for the baggiest ones going, we had to tuck the legs in my boots and tie a belt around the waist," he chuckled.

"Why would you want ones that didn't fit?" asked Tony.

"So they wouldn't rub against by sore backside that was still on fore from that ass-whooping I was telling you about."


	9. Chapter 9

Clad in old red NIS coveralls that Tony had found in the back of the evidence garage Gibbs was sweeping up a pile of loose polystyrene chips that had fallen out of a box not touched since 1983, the main contents of it already removed and never replaced and the tape holding the bottom together well past its stickiness date.

Whilst he was grumbling to himself and scooping up the pesky pieces that did not seem to want to go where the brush was trying to propel them Tony, who hadn't stopped all day, had rushed to the bathroom in between all of the tasks that were being piled on him by the auditors who thought it amusing that a member of the fabled MCRT was schlepping for them. Their amusement had stopped when Gibbs had joined in but the tasks they piled on Tony didn't, the Director had specifically ordered them to work him to the bone and they did.

As Gibbs continued to grumble to himself, he did not hear the approach of the soft leather soled shoes from behind him.

"So you feeling the need to volunteer your time Agent Gibbs?"

Momentarily scrunching his eyes before again fixing a dispassionate countenance, Gibbs turned around to face Vance, "well you know what they say Leon, a little bit of hard work is good for the soul."

"And this would have nothing to do with Agent DiNozzo being on punishment detail for theft in the work place would it?" asked Vance raising an eyebrow at Gibbs whilst turning over yet another of his seemingly endless supply of toothpicks in his mouth.

"Nothing wrong in my keeping an eye on my team Leon, it's what a good leader does, not send them to the four winds to be punished."

"I've already told you Gibbs, I didn't send him away to punish him," Vance was getting annoyed.

"Then what was your reason, because it sure as hell wasn't anything to do with helping you catch the mole," demanded Gibbs his own annoyance rising to the surface.

"Did I miss the bulletin Agent Gibbs?" asked Vance, "When did SecNav appoint you as Director of this agency?"

"Well, I couldn't have done any worse than you Director," sneered Gibbs.

Just as Vance was about to snap back, Tony rounded the corner, clutching a pile of old photos he had found, his head down as he sifted through them, "Hey Dad you'll never guess what, I've found some old team photos of you and Uncle Mike."

So deep in his thoughts was he that he had forgotten they were at work and had completely missed the fact that Director Vance was stood in front of him.

Gibbs froze, never one for words, he couldn't have found one now if his and Tony's life depended upon it. Vance was similarly indisposed. Noting the fact that he'd had no verbal response Tony looked up. He stopped dead. He recounted again the words he had just uttered, he screwed up his eyes, maybe he'd dreamt it, he peeked out again but Vance was still there.

"I think there's something that you Gentlemen need to tell me," said Vance recovering his vocal abilities first.

"Nothing to tell Leon," answered Gibbs.

"Not how I heard it," replied Vance, "my office now, the both of you."

Throwing the broom he was holding down to the floor, Gibbs started to follow. He and the Director had almost made it to the elevator door in the otherwise empty garage when they realized Tony was not following them.

Vance shouted back, "that order was for you as well Agent DiNozzo."

Tony still remained stock still, as if he had not heard a word.

Gibbs set off back over to him, "Tony come on lets go sort this out," he said calmly to him taking him by the arm and guiding him to the elevator.

"I can't go back to that ship," mumbled Tony, "I can't go back."

"We're not going to let that happen," said Gibbs quietly into his ear, "but we need to go sort this."

He moved Tony slowly into the elevator where Vance waited, a still somewhat bemused look on his face. Together the three rode up to the mezzanine level in total silence.

They remained that way until they got into the Directors office, when Vance took control, ordering them to sit. The two took seats around the conference table looking completely out of place in their overalls around the highly polished mahogany desk.

"Lets start with who you two actually are, shall we?" said Leon joining them.

"Exactly who you think we are and have always been," replied Gibbs, "just get to the point Director."

"Ok then, tell me why I and for that matter probably the rest of the agency do not know that you are father and son," said Leon.

Gibbs so desperately wanted to tell him that actually others in the agency who they knew and trusted did in fact know of the relationship but did not want to get the others involved but thought it better to hold his tongue for the moment. Tony didn't need him to make things worse.

Startling them all Tony spoke up, "Sir, they don't know, and you don't know because I asked Agent Gibbs not to tell them."

"Is that because if they knew they would see through the fact that your father is probably protecting your butt from all of the other stunts you pull in this agency?" Vance provoked the young agent.

"Now that's just an outright attack Vance and you have no evidence to support that and no right to say it," argued Gibbs.

"I'll say what I want in my office and whilst I'm at the head of this agency," Leon bit back.

"You've been Director all of 5 minutes Leon, you need to earn the right," Gibbs spat the words at him.

"I have done Gibbs, I don't see them painting your name on that door," snarled Leon.

"Stop it please," shouted Tony into the midst of all of this, "just stop it!"

Unusual as the outburst was, it caused the two older men to shut up and turn to face Tony.

"Sir, I'm sorry for shouting, but the reason I didn't tell you is because I didn't want people to ask about my past, Dad adopted me when I was 8, he saved me from a life of hell ok," Tony was struggling to hold back the emotions that went with that statement, "he doesn't protect me from my screw ups he makes me face them and deal with them, it's just this time I didn't go to him, thought I'd just do my punishment detail and get on with the job, and I haven't stopped for a minute, I've put up with all that crap the auditors are throwing at me on your orders and I don't know what else to do to make amends for what I did."

"You didn't seem to be working when I saw you down in the garage DiNozzo, seemed to me you were reminiscing over the good ol' times with your Dad and Uncle Mike," responded Vance.

"Sir I found the photos in a pile of trash when I came out of the bathroom, I picked them up to save them from being thrown out," replied Tony, "I promise I have been doing the work, ask the auditors."

"Seems like they were doing a lot of sorting out and you were disrupting their work by taking things once again that didn't belong to you Agent DiNozzo," said Vance.

"Sir, I … I… I didn't mean to take them, I just wanted to show them to…" Tony tried to respond but the words just wouldn't form.

"Did you have permission to take them?" asked the Director.

"No Sir, I just.." replied Tony.

"Did you ask anyone if they would let you take them?" asked Leon.

"Well no, there was no-one…" Tony was once again cut off.

"Just like the chocolate then?" said Leon, "Do you feel that you can take whatever you want to in this agency?"

"He just picked up old photos, Leon, they were being thrown out, discarded like it seems you would like to do with some of the old and faded agents in them," Gibbs butted in to the interrogation. "Guessing they didn't meet the requirements you look for in your agents and your agency."

"Watch it Agent Gibbs," warned Vance.

"Tony go wait outside," said Gibbs, ignoring the fact that they were in the Directors office.

"You'll stay where you are DiNozzo," growled the Director.

Tony who was already halfway out of his seat was left hovering looking to both his father and the Director for the answer as to what he should do.

"I said go and wait outside Son," said Gibbs calmly.

Tony backed away from the table, almost tangling his feet in the legs of the chair, waiting for the Director to respond to his Dad's order, but nothing further came. He made it through the door and into the waiting area and collapsed down into the Directors couch. He'd done it again, messed it all up, for him and his Dad, he just couldn't keep his mouth shut, couldn't learn his lessons.

Inside the office things were anything but calm.

"Just what is your problem with me Agent Gibbs?" asked Vance.

"It's probably easier for you to start with your problem with me," chimed back Gibbs, "it might be a shorter list than the one I have for you."

"You think further sarcasm is going to get you out of this?" asked Leon.

"No Director, but it sure makes the time go faster," Gibbs responded.

"There you go again Gibbs, thinking that the rules and the etiquette don't apply to you," retorted Leon.

"Never been one for etiquette Director but whilst we are talking rules and for that matter people lying about who they are, is there anything you wish to share with me?" he asked.

The eyes in Vances head almost popped, the vein through his right temple pulsed painfully. He could feel a hell of an headache coming on. Jackie had warned him about his blood pressure and a head to head for Gibbs wasn't helping.

Getting no reply Gibbs took over the control of the conversation. "So Tony broke the rules, stole the chocolate, he is on my team and I am his father I will deal with that and I assure you it won't happen again, as for being his father, if you had ever bothered to read his or my file properly you would have known. Sure it doesn't say a lot in there but it's enough. You don't even have to be a trained investigator to find it, but you do have to read the file, and I know you haven't read either. That jibe you made the other day about new agents needing to be more like McGee than Tony, well maybe you ought to compare the qualifications some time, maybe then you would have realized that the man most likely to have been able to flush out your mole was Tony and not your technical geniuses. Oh and Director you might want to return those chocolate bars you took from Tony down in the canteen, or did I see the wrapper of one of them in your trash can?"

Gibbs paused again.

"I didn't eat them," answered Vance.

"Then maybe we need to be on the look out for mice that know how to throw away wrappers?" said Gibbs feigning an innocent smile.

Vance was back-tracking rapidly, "Jackie brought the kids in yesterday."

"So now you are blaming it on your kids, I do hope you taught them it's wrong to take things that they haven't paid for."

"They didn't take them," said Vance.

"So you gave them goods knowing that they had not been paid for, I don't know what's worse, did you eat any of it with them?"

Vance didn't respond. He had just been trying to keep the kids quiet whilst he made a few calls; he had spotted the bars in his drawer and had decided that since DiNozzo had already taken them out of the machine and as he didn't have any change to give the kids it wouldn't do any harm. He'd not thought about it as theft himself.

"It was just two bars Agent Gibbs that your son had already stolen," said Vance.

"So theft is ok in single digits?" asked Gibbs.

"Your son has been taking them ever since he came back from being Agent afloat, he's got his little routine down to a fine art," responded Vance.

Gibbs let that information sink in for a few seconds, clearly this was bigger than the weeks worth of CCTV he had watched.

"Whether it is one or one hundred bars you are still being a hypocrite Leon, sure Tony deserves a punishment but you are letting those guys down there bully him, and clearly he's taking it because you have threatened to send him back aboard a ship as agent afloat, another punishment detail, despite what you say," answered Gibbs, "so you have had one and a half days of slavery out of him and half a day from me, now I am going to deal with him and get to the bottom of this, I'm going home and Tony is coming with me. We'll both be back in Monday and I will tell you how I propose to deal with him, perhaps you should consider your own actions Director."

With that Gibbs left the office.

Tony was perched now on the edge of the couch, biting his fingernails and worried about what had been happening in the office.

"Come on Tony, we're going home," said Gibbs.

"But I can't I have to work," Tony answered, "that is unless Vance is firing me, he hasn't said that he's firing me has he?"

"No, we're going home to find out what's been happening since you got back from the ship that's got you into this mess, then we're going to work out how to fix it and this time you aren't going to throw a tantrum like a two year old or I will treat you like one, understand?" The words were out before he could stop himself. Sure he needed to get to the bottom of this but he was in danger of his anger at Vance and the shock about how long the thefts had been going on for taking over.

Tony followed him wordlessly to the car. As they both got in and buckled up, Gibbs sighed. "I'm sorry Tony, I shouldn't have threatened you like that in there, I was pissed at Vance, I took it out on you, but we do need to talk son, especially now Vance knows I'm your dad."


	10. Chapter 10

The rest of the journey had continued in silence. Despite his dad's apology Tony couldn't help but think back on how he had previously behaved to his father and how that would have been dealt with back when he was a child. Using the 'f' word which he and his mates at school had thought was grown up and sophisticated was anything but that when he had accidentally let it slip out when he and Dwayne Benning had been playing a little one on one on the front yard and Dwayne had barged him into a thorn bush. Made worse when Kelly, who had been 4 at the time, had heard it and kept asking what it meant and saying it over and over until both of them, child and teenager had found themselves stood in the same corner with a sore backside and the taste of soap still floating around their tonsils. Kelly holding his hand tightly as she let the tears trickle down her face.

"What you thinking Tony?" asked Gibbs as they pulled onto the drive.

"About that first time you caught me swearing and Kelly copied me," he replied.

"Can you still taste the soap?" asked Gibbs, a wry smile on his face.

"Yeah and smell it too," answered Tony, "you're not going to make me stand in the corner with soap in my mouth are you?"

Gibbs sighed, "ahh no Tony, not this time, I figure you were tired, I'd invaded your home and perhaps not announced my upset with you in the same way, but use that kind of language under my roof and you get the full works, ok?"

"It's a deal Dad, and I am sorry about how I spoke to you, my home or not it shouldn't have happened," Tony apologized.

"You're right, it shouldn't happen but it did and we move past it, I wasn't there to pull you up on your use of uncouth language but rather on the more worrying deceit and theft," said Gibbs, "now that needs some explanation, whether you are under my roof or your own, I'm not going to let my son operate like that, I brought you up better than that, you know better than that and there must be something underlying all of this that I need to know about because it is clearly something that you cannot tackle on your own."

With that Gibbs pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the trunk to remove Tony's bag. He watched as Tony remained in situ for just a while longer, hit himself in the forehead and then climbed out of the car clearly berating himself at the mess he had created.

"Hey, stop smacking yourself around the head," called Gibbs, "I'm pretty sure that's my job."

Tony just gave him a withering look and replied, "I thought you would have been considering a target much lower than my head."

"Can't say it hasn't crossed my mind," said Gibbs, "kids crime, kids punishment and all, but I figured you're a grown man and for you to do something as stupid as this there must be more to it and an ass whooping isn't necessarily going to fix it."

As they went into the house, tony headed straight for his room with his bag. "Er do you want me to stay up there?" he asked.

"No, I thought we would talk down here, I'll fix us some coffees although I might be out of your cream stuff that you insist on spoiling a good coffee with," Gibbs called after him, "so dump your bag up there, get changed out of those coveralls and get your butt back down here."

Tony complied and minutes later he wandered into the kitchen where his Dad was just finishing off the coffee.

"I lied to you," Tony almost whispered, "this morning when you asked me what I'd been dreaming about, I lied and said I couldn't remember, but I did."

"Dreams are personal Tony, you don't have to tell me, just that I heard you sobbing in it and was worried," answered Gibbs.

"I was remembering before I came to live with you and mom," said Tony, "about Senior and when my mother died."

Handing Tony the steamy cup of coffee and directing him back into the lounge, Gibbs sat down at the side of his son and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"It's ok Son, do you want to tell me about it now?"

Tony nodded and cast his mind and his recollections back…..

It had only been a matter of a few weeks since his mother had passed away and yet his father seemed intent on destroying any memories of her that he could find around the house. Currently his father was ransacking the house looking for him with the help of the housekeeper Mr Percy, a man who Tony detested even more than his father. Perhaps his father wanted to kill Tony too, he was a reminder of his mother, but perhaps he would just follow the usual course and beat him to within an inch of his life that always seemed to make him happier.

Tony clung onto the St Christopher his mom had given him and hid away in the electric meter cupboard in the kitchen annex with it. Tony had been careless and had left it on the table in the hallway whilst he had gone to eat dinner and when he had returned it was gone. Later that afternoon when he thought his father had fallen asleep, probably passed out from the amount of alcohol, he sneaked into his office to look through the drawers in the desk in the hope it was there and not thrown out with the trash.

His luck was in, the chain and pendant were resting on the top of the desk, haphazardly thrown there and resting up against the crystal decanter full of McCallan Scotch that was currently his fathers favourite tipple. He had quickly snatched the St Christopher back and had put it into the pockets of his corduroy shorts. He should have left at that point but he saw the glow of the amber liquor within the decanter and it appeared to be taunting him.

He knew that if is father was drunk when the theft of the chain was discovered he would be in for an even harsher beating, as his father would start proceedings off and Mr Percy would be forced to step in and finish them, but if his father couldn't get so drunk then he might just survive with a beating from his father.

Quickly he acted, grabbing the decanter with both hands and lifting it down from the large mahogany desk. He looked around him for anything to pour the liquid into and deciding his only option was to pour it into the large pot plant in the corner he started to make his way over there.

He was only two feet away when he was halted by the sound of the door to the study opening. He darted into the corner, hoping to hide himself in the long velvet curtain that surrounded the window. His hands were sweating with terror and the glass decanter was heavy. This combined with the panic of being caught spelt disaster and the ornate glass piece and its liquid contents fell to the wooden floor below and smashed into a thousand small pieces.

"Stop right there Master DiNozzo," sneered Percy, "I think your father is going to want to know about this don't you?"

"Sir it was an accident, I didn't mean to drop it Sir, I didn't," Tony begged.

"Stop sniveling you stupid brat," snarled Percy and smacked Tony hard across the face knocking him to his knee, landing on the small slivers of glass from the decanter.

Percy turned and left the study, locking the door and the whisky thief therein. He went to find Senior.

Tony didn't have time to worry about his cut knees or even the glass still in them. He had to get out. His only option was through the window. He climbed out with relative ease, but now he had to hide. His mind quickly called up all of the previous hiding places that his father and Percy had found, they wouldn't do. The only one left was the dark electric cupboard in the annex. His father knew he hated small dark spaces so that would be the last place to look for him.

He had been in the cupboard now for over two hours and he could hear the angry search taking place around him. He missed his mom so much, he wanted her back and that was never going to happen, the rest of his life was going to be like this, running and trying to stay one step ahead of the pain, hurt and humiliation his father subjected him to.

As he held onto the St Christopher he let out the first words he had spoken in two hours, "please God save me."

He hadn't meant to speak them out loud nor had he been aware that his voice had carried into the kitchen where Percy was currently on his second search of the room.

The door to the cupboard was swiftly yanked open and the light from the kitchen assaulted Tony's senses that had grown accustomed to the dark within the cupboard which matched the darkness within his life.

Percy reached in and dragged him out by his hair. Tony only had chance to throw the pendant into the farthest corner of the cupboard in the hope that no one would find it there before he could retrieve it and find a safe place to hide it from his father.

Percy transfer his grasp from Tony's hair to his ear and practically dragged the boy through the house and back to the study where Senior was.

"I've found the little bastard," he announced throwing Tony to the ground again. "Are you going to deal with this or shall I start?"

"Get me the belt Percy and hold the ungrateful brat over the desk," stated Senior, who had clearly not had any difficulty in finding more alcohol to replace that destroyed by Tony.

Percy dragged Tony to his feet and pinned him face down to the desk. Tony could only hear the approach of his father and smell the stench of alcohol on him, even if he had not screwed his eyes against the thoughts of what was about to happen he would have struggled seeing as Percy had his head pinned to the desk.

He felt his father grab the back of his shorts, pulling them down so hard that it ripped the button off of the front and caused the zipper to open. They pooled at his ankles along with his underwear, which had been grabbed along with them. He felt his shirt pulled up his back that still bore the scars of earlier beatings and then the beating began.

Lash after lash rained down on him.

"I'll teach you, you snotty little brat to steal my liquor," screamed his father, "you ungrateful little bastard."

The blows kept coming, with the odd occasion being punctuated with the feel of the buckle hitting his back or his behind.

Tony was way past crying or even screaming out in pain by the time his father tired and Percy took over. No one would come and save him in any event. All he had to do was survive and go back and retrieve the St Christopher, he couldn't let his father steal that from him, it was all he had left.

By the time Tony had recounted his nightmare to Gibbs, both men had tears running down their faces. Tony couldn't see his Dad's tears as Gibbs had him held tight into his side, his head buried in Gibbs comforting shoulder. Even all those years later, Gibbs was still finding out new stories about his sons former life.

Tony started to still and calm and began to sit back up.

"I'm not telling you that to make you less angry with me," he began, "I just wanted to try to be honest with you, about the dream and that."

"I know Tony," said Gibbs kissing his son's forehead, "I know."

I also dreamt about how you dealt with me that time I stole too," admitted Tony. "I remembered the lessons I learnt from that and how different it was. I wasn't sobbing at that part."

"But those lessons you learnt from me don't seem to have worked either Son," said Gibbs, "perhaps I didn't do my job properly back then?"

Both men cast their minds back to that occasion.


	11. Chapter 11

Tony had stability in his young life, he'd had it for 3 blissful years and he loved it more than anything in the world. A mom and dad who loved him, good friends, lots of adopted Uncles and Aunts and an Granddad and Grandma who spoilt him rotten when they thought his parents weren't watching but that was all to come to an abrupt end in the February of his eleventh year, or so Tony thought, brought to an abrupt end by the arrival of his parents natural child.

At first he had been as happy and excited as everyone else added to which the thought of being a big brother to the baby was thrilling. People spoke to him about his new role, he was even more the center of attention in their world than he had been before. He had helped pick out the name. His dad and he had decorated the nursery and he and his mom had shopped for all of the items they needed.

Now he was sulking. Sat at his Granddads house in Stillwater, all of the family gathered around for Kelly's Christening ceremony. The adults were all engrossed in Kelly, "what a beauty," they commented, "she looks like a perfect little angel" and they were right, he knew that, but the more he heard it the more he felt as if he was pushed out of the tight family circle. No one meant to do it, but the baby was taking everyone's time up and he had just become Kelly's big brother, the one who would have to look out for her. It was as if he only existed because he was attached to her.

He wanted to go out and play. He and Bradley had built a fantastic tree house last time he'd visited and he was desperate to go and visit it and see if it was still standing but instead they had insisted he put on a smart suit and go to church and watch them pour water over Kelly's head. Of course Kelly seemed to enjoy it. People commented that whilst other babies would often cry, this six month old baby had giggled gorgeously as the priest had let the water trickle over her little golden locks.

Seeing his son wasn't happy Gibbs went over to sit with him.

"Hey Tony, do you want to help me pass some of the food around?" He asked thinking that the kid just didn't feel involved in the room full of adults.

"No I want to go out and check my tree house," pouted Tony.

"Tony, don't start that again, we've told you that today is a special day for Kelly and that you can go and play in the tree house tomorrow," explained Gibbs.

"But I need to go today," whined Tony, "the other boys told me and Bradley that they were going to try to find it and capture it from us, I need to make sure it's protected."

"It can wait Tony," answered Gibbs, "they aren't going to find it that soon, you camouflaged it well."

"But I don't want to be here," Tony demanded, "this suit is scratchy and it's boring here, everyone just wants to talk about Kelly."

"Tony, it's Kelly's special day, don't spoil it for her," said Gibbs, "now I'm giving you a warning to lose the attitude. You and I will have a talk about how you feel tomorrow, so now you have a choice of joining in the party and making the day as special as only you can or going up to your room and staying there until our guests have gone and then having an early bedtime."

"I don't want to do either," pouted Tony, "I want to go to my tree house."

Gibbs didn't want to enter into an argument with Tony in front of all of the guests and so took him by the hand and pulled him out into the kitchen.

"Young man I suggest you watch yourself because if you carry on like this you won't be going to the tree house at all," warned Gibbs again, "now are you going to tell me what all of this is about?"

"No," shouted Tony, "you're so unfair, you promised me I could go."

"And I'm warning you that you are going to lose that right Tony," said Gibbs, "you are eleven but acting like a toddler, now last chance to buck your ideas up or tell me what's wrong."

"Leave me alone," shouted Tony trying to push past his dad and run out of the kitchen.

Gibbs caught hold of him by the arm and pulled him back to stand in front of him, "are you going to apologise?" he asked.

"No why should I?" answered Tony with such anger that the words were almost spat out.

Gibbs turned him to the side and delivered three warning swats to his bottom.

"Now before you say anything else to me in that tone, I want you to go to your room and think about how you've behaved," said Gibbs in a manner that Tony recognized meant his dad meant business. He pulled away from his dad and stormed up the steps to his room at his Granddads house, one that had been his dads when he was little.

As he slammed himself down onto the bed in a huff he felt the heat of the relatively mild smacks warm up a little. Flipping himself over he pulled out a comic and decided to spend the time reading instead.

He'd been there only half an hour before his door creaked open. Bradley had been dropped off by his mom and soon tired of the party without Tony there. He had asked Shannon where Tony was. She, not knowing Gibbs had sent him to his room, suggested he go and look upstairs to see if he had popped to his bedroom to play.

"Hi Bro, how are things?" he asked cheerfully plonking himself down on the bed next to Tony.

"I'm fed up," answered Tony, "Dad knows that the kids from over on Sycamore Street are set to capture our tree house and he won't let me out to defend it and make sure it's safe. All they are bothered about is the Christening and how cute Kelly looks in her gown, I don't think she even knows what's going on and wouldn't miss me."

"Grown ups always take these things way too seriously if you ask me," agreed Brad, "I think they forget what it is like to be a kid."

"Yeah it sucks," relied Tony, "I mean it wouldn't take us long to check it."

"Well we could sneak out for five minutes if you like?" suggested Brad. "If we run there and back they won't know we have even gone, they'll just think we're out back playing or something."

Tony didn't want to tell him that he had been told to stay in his room. He looked up to his older friend and didn't want to appear like a baby and in any event it wouldn't take long and the grown ups were still cooing over Kelly and wouldn't miss him for a few minutes.

"OK," said Tony, "but we're gonna need to climb out of my Granddads window and down the back porch so that they don't stop us and ask what we're up to."

Bradley didn't mind how they got there. He was as keen as Tony was to check on their house and neither thought it would take too long.

The escape from the upper floor didn't take long although it had become a little more hair-raising than either expected as the trellis leading down from the roof of the porch was made of very thin wooden laths that didn't hold under the weight of the growing boys. Neither did it help the escape plan that both boys were still wearing their smart suit pants and shirts.

The run over to the tree house only took the few minutes as predicted and much to their pleasure the Sycamore Street kids hadn't found it and none of their anti-intruder devices they had secreted around it had been activated. Tony was particularly proud of these as he had invented most of them himself having found an old survivalists hand book in his Granddads attic during the vacation.

Having checked everything was in order the boys forgot their self imposed time limit amongst the excited chatter regarding updates and additions they were going to make to the place.

"We could do some work whilst we're here," suggested Brad, "it seems a waste not to."

"We haven't got any tools," sighed Tony.

"Doesn't your Granddad keep some at his store?" asked Brad, "that's closer than going back home."

"Yeah but he has the store closed up today for Kelly," answered Tony depressed that he couldn't help in that way, until he remembered the problem his Granddad had been telling his dad about the window that wouldn't shut properly at the rear of the premises into the bathroom. "But there might be a way to get in."

The two boys without any real thought about the consequences made their way over to the general store. Walking around to the rear of the premises Tony quickly identified the window that was their possible solution to the current problem.

Brad helped push Tony up to the window struggling to hold the kid there whilst Tony wrestled with the window. It certainly didn't feel as lose as Jackson had been telling Gibbs.

Soon however both boys had managed to climb through and were inside the store which seemed quite eerie being closed up.

Tony quickly located the aisle where Jackson kept the tools for sale and borrowing a couple of hammers and a saw along with a huge pot of nails and a couple of balls of string for more traps to be made.

"Hey Tony, do you think your Granddad would mind us taking something to eat?" asked Brad, "we could pay him back tomorrow, you know leave an IOU."

"Then he'll know we've been here and we'll get into trouble," replied Tony.

Before Bradley could respond to that the two boys were interrupted by the sound of smashing glass outback. They ran into the bathroom where the noise had come from and found that the window they had struggled with had in fact given way at the hinges, the wood being rotten and in need of replacing. The window and its wooden surround was now smashed on the floor with no way of them being able to mend it.

"Perhaps they'll just think it was really that bad that it just fell out," said Tony.

"I'm not sure bro, they'll know someone must have done something to it," replied Brad as equally aware as Tony was in that moment that they were both going to be in trouble. "Perhaps we should just confess?"

"I can't," said Tony, "Dad will kill me, perhaps we could make it look as if someone tried to break in?"

"Someone did," answered Brad, "Us!"

"Yeah but if we take a few small things then they will think it's a burglar." Said Tony, panic setting in and any common sense finally leaving him. He still remembered what had happened to him when his Dad and Mr Percy had caught him with the decanter.

Brad sensing the genuine panic in Tony reluctantly agreed to go along with the plan and he and Tony grabbed a bag and put in the tools and a few items they thought burglars might want. They soon hightailed it out of the store and back to the tree house now completely unaware of how much time had passed and that there was a search party out looking for them. The search had already gone to the tree house but there had been no sign of the two kids at all and so it had moved on.

Tony and Brad arrived back at their base, both still worried about the store.

"What did you take?" asked Tony looking at the bag Brad had lifted up to their house.

"I took some cookies and chips and a carton of milk."

"Burglars don't steal cookies and chips," replied Tony in despair.

"No but the local kids always try to steal cigarettes and I took a packet of those too," answered Brad producing the same along with a lighter. "Have you ever tried one?"

"No mom says smoking is really bad for you," said Tony, his mom having found him one day pretending to smoke a pipe and pretend he was Sherlock Holmes.

"Only if you swallow the smoke," said Brad, "well that's what the boys at school say anyhow, we could just light one to see what its like."

"Ok," agreed Tony rather wearily, "but only one."

Brad struggled with the cigarette and the lighter but finally in a hacking cough of putrid smoke he pulled the cigarette away from his lips. "It's good," he wheezed, "it makes your head feel a bit fuzzy."

He quickly handed the cigarette to Tony, grabbing as he did so the milk and swigging about a quarter of it straight down.

Tony's hand was shaking slightly as he reached out to take the cigarette. His real mom used to smoke and she would often tell him she was going to give up but never could. He worried that he might be the same. Still Brad had managed it and so he would try it.

He placed the smoldering stick of tobacco between his lips and sucked in the thick smoke. The taste was horrific. He felt it hit the back of his throat and then a sensation hit his stomach. He just had time to lean over the side of the house and hurl his guts up onto the ground below.

The noise he made echoed through the woods and alerted one of the search parties still out looking for him. The party consisting of Jackson and Tom Morrow, who had been invited to the Christening, rushed towards the sound.

The next thing Tony heard was the sound of one of his security traps activating and the cry of a grown man whose leg had been lassoed by a rope that he had not seen laying upon the ground in the dim light that was rapidly approaching and had then been lifted off of his feet and was currently hanging upside down from a neighbouring tree branch.

Both boys heard the noise and thinking they had captured an enemy from the Sycamore Street group, rushed over to claim their victory, although Tony's stomach was still suffering the effects of the smoke.

They ran up to the trap only to stop dead in their tracks. Jackson was dangling with one leg tethered tightly to the tree branch whilst Tom was trying to hold him up enough to undo the rope.

Tom saw both boys and needing help and knowing that the time for lecturing them would come he held off of shouting at them.

"Tony, go find me something to cut this rope," he ordered. "Brad help me hold Mr Gibbs up a little higher."

Tony raced back to the tree house and looking around at what they had stashed in there spotted the saw they had just taken from Jacksons store. Grabbing it he raced back to help his Granddad.

With Jackson safely back on the ground and the right way up, the boys knew that the time was rapidly approaching in which they were going to be in significant trouble.

"Boys start walking," said Tom as he held onto Jackson whose ankle was swollen and painful to walk on. "Don't you dare get more than a few feet away from me."

The two walked shame faced back to the house, passing other search crews on the way who were relieved to see the boys safe but knew that their Daddies were going to have a lot to say about their escapades.

Bobby Miller who had been roped into the search by his son, a friend of the Gibbs family and regular customer at the store, stopped the group.

"Hey Jackson, just been over your store, think you might have a problem there, your back window is smashed in, looks like maybe some of the local kids been after your stock again, you want me to call the Sherriff out, you look as if you are a might indisposed at this point."

Jackson couldn't help but notice the involuntary flinch from the two boys in front of him.

"Thanks Bobby, I've had a problem with that window, probably just fell in, need to board it up," he replied.

"I'll take care of it for you, seems like you already have your hands a little full," Bobby nodded to the two boys.

"Oh their Daddies sure do," replied Jackson, "thanks again Bobby, we'd better be on getting them back, just let me know any costs you have boarding up that window though."

With that he turned back and looked at the boys. "Get moving before I call the Sherriff myself," he commanded, "I'm gonna need full and honest answers from the pair of you when we get back."


	12. Chapter 12

Shannon yanked the door open the moment she saw Tom and Jackson walking down the path with the two boys in front of them. She ran out of the front door, not minding she had nothing on her feet and hugged Tony so tight he thought she was actually in the process of suffocating him.

Then holding him out in front of her she inspected him, "are you hurt anywhere, are there any injuries?"

"No mom, I'm fine," he winced at the thought of the panic he had clearly created for her.

She pulled him into a tight hug again and kissed his head, "Don't you ever dare do this to me again, do you hear?"

"I'm really sorry mom," he whispered back.

Pushing him slightly away from her again she fixed him with the look only a mother could give her child, "you had better be young man, do you know how worried we have all been?"

"She didn't wait for an answer before turning to Bradley, "same goes for you young man, now I want the pair of you inside that house and in the living room, you can both find yourself a corner and stand in it until your Dads are back here, you had both better think about what you've done and what you are going to say, now move."

She looked up at Tom and Jackson, "Are you alright Jack?"

"Nothing an ice pack and a cup of coffee won't fix," smiled Jackson as he hobbled into the house after the boys.

"You might want these," said Tom, "offering up a bag of items he had gathered at the tree house. "The boys had them at the tree house, I didn't want to leave them there."

Shannon took the bags of tools and other items which she immediately realized had come from Jacksons store as they still bore the price tags. Her eyes picked out the opened packet of cigarettes.

"They did both immediately come and help me and did as they were told," commented Tom, "don't let Gibbs kill him," he smiled.

"You might need to worry more about my reaction," Shannon smiled back, don't worry Gibbs will be just as relieved as I am that he's back uninjured."

"Look I'll head off to the motel and get out of your hair, thanks for the invite and if you guys need anything just give me a shout," said Tom waving goodbye.

Shannon went back inside. Jackson was sat in the kitchen, holding Kelly whilst Joanne was taking a look at his ankle.

"Do you think we ought to get it x-rayed?" she asked him.

"I think it will be fine with a bit of rest and when that rope burn subsides a little," he sighed, "I'm getting a little old for being hoisted up trees by the ankle."

At that point Gibbs and Steve burst back into the house.

"You've found them?" he asked and as Shannon and Jackson nodded he added, "thank god. Where are they both?"

"In the living room waiting for the two of you," Shannon answered.

"Are they alright?" Gibbs asked.

"They're uninjured but I imagine rather nervous about the trouble they've got themselves into," she replied.

"They need to be," replied Steve, "I'm sorry that Bradley got Tony into this."

"Oh there's no need for that Steve, Tony can get himself into his own trouble believe me," sighed Gibbs, "guess we'd better go and get this thing sorted out."

"You should both take a look at this first," said Shannon, showing them the bag Tom had given her whilst Jackson explained what had happened to his ankle and what he suspected had happened to his store.

The two fathers entered the living room to find their respective sons still stood nose first into their corners. Neither moved when they heard someone enter the room, both had silent tears running down their cheeks.

Steve and Gibbs shared a look that said that they too remembered several occasions from their own childhoods where the pair of them had found themselves in similar positions for their misadventures.

Steve spoke first, "Bradley turn yourself around and come here."

To Bradleys credit he reacted to the order immediately, approaching his Dad with his head bowed low. "I'm sorry Dad, sorry Mr Gibbs, it's all my fault, I'm the oldest, so please don't let Tony get into trouble."

"What say we let his Dad sort that out and you and I discuss your role in this?" said his Dad. "Come on get in the car."

Bradley turned to the corner where Tony still stood, "I'm sorry Tony."

Tony turned his head, the streams of tears on his cheeks running faster, "I'm sorry too Brad." He then turned back to the corner and cried harder.

He felt a kindly hand placed on his shoulder, turning him around and maneuvering him towards the couch. Brad and Steve had gone and it was just him and his Dad in the room.

"Is Granddad's ankle going to be alright?" he sobbed, "I never meant to hurt him Dad, I promise I never thought it would hurt anyone."

"Your Granddad is going to be ok," said Gibbs seeing that the kids remorse on that point at least was genuine, "but I think there is a lot more that we need to talk about isn't there?"

"Yes Sir," sniffed Tony, "I didn't really mean to ruin Kelly's party either, I thought we'd only be gone 5 minutes and I just wanted to check my tree house."

"Well perhaps we need to take all of those things one by one," said Gibbs, "and work out where it all started to go wrong. Now I asked you earlier to tell me if something was bothering you and putting you in the bad mood you were in and I never got an answer, well now I need one before we go anywhere."

"I was just bored and you wouldn't let me go and check on my tree house," answered Tony not looking at his father.

"Tony it was Kelly's Christening, a special day for all of us to celebrate, it only happens once in a persons life and she needed her big brother to be there," said Gibbs.

"But I'm not her big brother am I, I'm not even related to her and yet everyone is saying that I am her brother and it just reminds me that I'm not really," shouted Tony through his tears.

"Hey hey calm down and tell me why you think you aren't her big brother?" said Gibbs.

"Because she properly belongs to you and mom and I don't," sobbed the boy, hot tears now pouring, "you now have a proper child and you won't want me anymore."

"Tony look at me son," said Gibbs trying to hide the crack in his own voice, "you have got this one so wrong and I'm sorry you felt that way and I'm sorry that neither me or mom spotted it sooner but you are wrong."

"But Kelly was something you both made and wanted isn't she?" said Tony, then not waiting for an answer, "I just ended up with you looking after me."

"Tony now listen because this is important," said Gibbs taking hold of his sons shoulders, "you are every bit my son and oldest child as Kelly is my daughter and youngest child, there is no difference between you at all, I love you both as much as the other and that is never going to change."

"But it has," cried Tony, "everything is all about Kelly, moms always too tired to play with me or do anything and everyone keeps telling me I have to protect Kelly and be her big brother and I don't know how to do that, I just want to be me, like it was before."

"Tony it will never be quite the same because there is a whole new person who we have added to the family, but it will get easier as Kelly gets older and she sleeps more and doesn't wake mom and I up every night. Then we will have more time together as a family," explained Gibbs whilst trying to wipe the tears from Tony's face," he started, "and as for how to be a big brother, well that's a new one for all of us, I never had a brother or sister and nor did your mom, so we don't know but we can help you work it out."

"People expect me to know already," sniffed Tony, "they forget that I am Tony and now it feels like I am just a big brother and I don't know how to do that and I wanted to be me and still do my things but nobody will let me."

"Tony what have you been stopped from doing?" asked Gibbs.

"You stopped me from going to my tree house," answered Tony.

"No, I wouldn't let you go today and I have explained why," said Gibbs, "but I wasn't going to stop you from going tomorrow. Sometimes Tony we have to compromise and we can't have everything we want immediately."

Tony's head lowered again, "but Kelly does," he muttered.

Gibbs swallowed his temper down at that before he replied, "what do you mean by that?"

"Well if she cries, you and mom stop what you are doing and go straight to her and when she grabbed something in the shop the other day mom bought it for her but when I asked for a toy I wasn't allowed it," whined Tony.

"Tony your mom bought her a toy costing two dollars, you wanted a remote controlled car costing a lot more and mom told you we couldn't afford it this month and you might have to wait until your birthday or Christmas," responded Gibbs, "now this jealousy has to stop. When we bought you a comic the other day we didn't buy Kelly anything. You don't both have to get something at the same time. You need to trust me when I say that mom and I will treat you both the same."

Tony remained silent. What his dad said was right and he had not stopped to consider that before. He was starting to realize that he was being selfish and he was ashamed.

"So now shall we talk about you disobeying me and leaving your room and going to the tree house?" asked Gibbs.

"I'm sorry," said Tony, tears welling again.

"The apology is fine but I want to know what you were thinking," said Gibbs, "did you know it was wrong?"

Tony nodded.

"Tony I need to hear your answers and the reason why," said Gibbs.

"Yes Sir I knew it was wrong but I didn't want to tell Bradley I was grounded to my room," answered Tony.

"Is that the only reason?" urged Gibbs.

"No, I thought you were being mean," he answered.

"Did you know it was wrong when you were doing it?" asked Gibbs.

"I guess so," answered the small boy, "but I didn't really think about it too much."

"Is that right?"

"Yes Sir," answered Tony.

"Then whose idea was it to climb out of Granddads bedroom window onto the porch?" asked his Dad.

"Mine," the simple reply.

"And why did you climb out of there?"

"Because I knew you would see us and we would get stopped if we went out the door," answered Tony.

"So you were deliberately deceitful and you knew what you were doing was wrong and you still did it," stated Gibbs.

"We were only going to be five minutes," said Tony.

"So you thought because you might get away with it, it was worth the risk?" asked Gibbs fixing him with a stern look.

"I did," whispered Tony, "but I got it wrong didn't I?"

"Yes son very, do you know how worried we were when we found you gone? Do you know how many people were out looking for the pair of you? Do you know how dangerous it was when you climbed onto that porch?"

"You used to do it when you were little," pouted Tony.

"Yes and I got myself a smacked bottom for it each time," said Gibbs.

"But you kept doing it though," replied Tony.

The kid was right and Gibbs for a moment was lost for an answer. "Tony you are smarter than I was at your age, I thought I knew better and I was wrong and it took me longer to realize it."

"But I didn't fall or hurt myself," tried Tony.

"No you were lucky, I saw where you and Bradley broke the trellis," you both could have fallen and really hurt yourself."

Tony thought back to that moment where his heart felt like it was in his mouth as the laths broke under his shoe. He nearly did fall from the top.

"I'm sorry Dad, it was stupid," he accepted. "Are you going to spank me?"

"We'll talk about that in a minute Tony, I think we have a few more serious matters to discuss first though don't you?"

Tony gulped. From the moment his grandfather was told that the store window was broken he knew that the game was up but facing the fact that he broke into the store, stole from his Grandfather who had always been generous to him, took tools that he knew he wasn't supposed to use without adult supervision, and smoked cigarettes, worried him that he might not be able to sit down for a long time.


	13. Chapter 13

Gibbs watched carefully the emotions passing through the face of his son and wondered if Steve was going through the same thing with Bradley, it didn't seem like five minutes ago that he was where Tony now sat with his own father pulled up on the footstool in front of him. If only he could make Tony see that the two were more alike than if they had shared the same DNA.

Now came the really tough part though. Tony knew that stealing was wrong and yet here he was stealing from his own family having broken into and burgled the local store.

"You going to tell me about the tools?" he started.

Tony took a deep shuddery breath and looked at his dad with eyes almost begging for mercy. "We just wanted to fix some of the boards and add a few more security measures," he said his voice low and almost resigned to the fact that this was not going to be enough to satisfy his dad. "We were just going to borrow them."

"Did you have permission to borrow them?" asked Gibbs

"No Sir," replied Tony knowing he was on to a loser.

"Have you suddenly been given permission to use tools without adult supervision?"

"No Sir," Tony's voice got lower and lower.

"Do you think that Granddad would have been able to sell them in his shop after you and Bradley had used them," asked Gibbs.

"I didn't think about that," admitted Tony, "I guess not, but we were going to put them back."

"And what about all of the rest of it?" asked Gibbs raising Tony's head up to look at him, "what about the string and the nails."

"I guess we couldn't have returned them," said Tony.

"No, but what I cannot understand is all of the other stuff that the two of you took," said Gibbs, "can you help me with that."

"The window broke," started Tony.

"Why would that mean that you needed to take other things?" asked Gibbs, perhaps showing an air of impatience.

"Because we couldn't just put it all back and Granddad would know that someone had been in his store and we thought, well me mostly, that if we made it look as if someone else had broken in then no one would suspect it was us," he explained, "it was a dumb plan and we should have come clean at that point but we panicked."

"You're right you should have come clean, and I think you know how wrong and naughty you were. I'm disappointed that you didn't have the good sense at the time to come to me," said Gibbs, "you are far more intelligent than you have behaved today and its about time you start using that brain of yours to stop you getting into these situations."

"I'm sorry Dad, I'll try harder," sniffed Tony, the words getting to him and his eyes starting to brim with tears.

"So whose idea was it to take the cigarettes?" Gibbs asked the question that Tony was dreading the most.

"Bradley Sir," he answered feeling wretched he was dropping his friend into it.

"Did you know he had them?" asked Gibbs.

"Only when he took them out of the bag at the tree house," said Tony, "he only took them to make it look like older boys had broken in."

"Tony if that was the truth why would the packet be open and one of the cigarettes gone?" Gibbs asked.

"Well we wondered what it was like," said Tony shame blushing under the tears falling down his cheeks. "It made me sick, I won't ever want to do it again, I promise."

"Hasn't mom warned you about how sick smoking can make people Son?"

"Yes Sir, I guess I just wanted to know for myself, I did remember what mom said when I went to smoke it but my head just said to try it once and see if it really was as bad as she said," the little boy tried to explain.

"And was it?" asked Gibbs.

"It was horrible and I still have the horrible taste in my mouth and I don't ever want to try it again, not like Sherlock Holmes or any of the actors in all of those old movies, never," pleaded Tony, "please Dad you have to believe me."

"You've made it hard to believe you Tony, you have done so many dishonest things in the last few hours that I'm having to look right into the heart of you to see if you are telling me the truth now," said Gibbs fixing him with a piercing gaze. "But I'm prepared to give you a chance on this one, this once, because I think I can see that right in the heart of you is a kid who is sorry and knows he's messed this up big time. Now is there anything else you think I need to know?"

"Only the traps I set up around the tree house Sir," said Tony, "I saw them in a book."

"How many of them did you make?" asked Gibbs.

"I think there are seven," said Tony, "well six now Granddad stepped on one."

"Well there are going to be less, as you are going to tell me where they all are and what type," Gibbs started to explain but was suddenly cut off by Tony.

"No you can't," he shouted, "the others will get our tree house."

"Hey what's with the shouting?" said Gibbs, "I suggest you lower your voice and speak to me properly."

"You aren't listening," cried Tony, "you don't care if the others get my tree house." With that he kicked his legs back hard against the couch.

Gibbs was not prepared to put up with the childish tantrum. He'd tried to stay calm and reasonable but he needed Tony to be on the same page as him. He tried one final word of warning but Tony was almost into full meltdown mode.

"It's my tree house and you can't take it apart or remove the traps," he yelled, "I won't tell you where they are."

Gibbs pulled him up from the couch and over his knee.

"One last chance Tony," he said, "are you going to calm down?"

"No," Tony screamed back.

Gibbs delivered six smacks to his backside and paused, "can we talk now?"

Still Tony was yelling, which only served to bring Shannon into the room.

"What's going on?" she asked, "why all the shouting?"

"I don't know Shan, we were talking and then Tony here decided to scream and act like a two year old," said Gibbs.

"No I didn't, he's going to destroy my tree house," Tony yelled back.

Gibbs raised his hand again and delivered another six smacks which started to quiet Tony down.

"Now are we going to talk or do I have to smack you on your bare bottom?"

Tony was now sobbing but at least something in his brain kicked in to tell him to stop fighting. He didn't reply but Gibbs felt his body relax a little.

Gibbs stood him back up and looked at him as he rubbed his bottom.

"Tony I really don't want to have to do that again, so sit yourself down and talk to me," said Gibbs.

"Can't I stand?" cried Tony.

"No, sit," answered Gibbs and waited for the boy to respond.

Tony sat with some trepidation, it didn't hurt that bad but the heat in his butt was certainly uncomfortable. His mom pulled up a seat next to his Dad. Now he had both of them to answer to. His day was going from bad to worse.

"Tony, your Granddad hurt his ankle on one of those traps you had and was lucky people were there to help him," said Shannon, "could you imagine if a person was there alone and got caught in one?"

"But they'd only get caught if they were trying to get to my tree house," answered Tony.

"Just ask yourself what you would prefer," said Shannon, "either having your Granddad around and able to play with you or him being badly injured but your tree house still intact."

Tony knew the answer, it was a no-brainer but it didn't stop him being mad at his dad for putting the idea into his moms head.

"I want Granddad uninjured," he pouted, "but perhaps I could just draw him a map of where not to walk."

Shannon saw Gibbs roll his eyes and so continued. "No Tony, that's not an option, there are other people who could get hurt too and I'm sure you would feel guilty if they got really hurt."

"Not if they had my tree house," said Tony.

"Why is the tree house so important to you that you would get into so much trouble over it?" asked Shannon.

"Because it's my house and if you didn't want me anymore I could go and live there," he burst into tears.

Shannon picked him up and sat on the sofa with him, cradling him in her arms. Gibbs moved to her side and stroked Tony's head whilst both parents together tried to soothe their oldest child.

"Tony there is nothing you could do in this world to make us want to get rid of you," said Gibbs. "What do we have to do to make you believe us?"

"I don't know," cried Tony.

"Well we'll just all have to try our hardest," said Shannon seeing that there was still an amount of anger in Tony and not wanting it to blow up again between him and Gibbs. "Now do you think you can sit up and let us bring all of this to an end?"

Tony nodded. Not that he wanted it to come to an end because that meant being punished but at the same time he was emotionally drained.

As Tony sat up he noticed that the heat in his bottom was starting to dissipate and just hoped that there wouldn't be a spanking on top of everything he had already had.

"So," said Gibbs moving back to the footstool so that he was face to face with his son, "for the running off when you were sent to your room and going where you weren't allowed to, you are grounded for the next four weeks, that will count both here at granddad's house and back home. You will only go out if with us or if you are going to school."

"But I have to go to Andy's birthday part in two weeks," protested Tony, "mom has already sent the reply back."

"Tony that's not happening, not until we can trust you to do as you are told."

Tony sulked but defeat was seemingly admitted. He would never win out against both his mom and dad in unison. He blamed his dad. His mom would have let him still go.

"Now because you feel like you aren't a part of this family, you won't be spending your grounding in your room," said Gibbs, "instead you will sit down here with us and talk and watch TV and be with us."

Tony perked up a little, normally he wasn't allowed to watch TV during his groundings, perhaps they were relenting a little.

"However because you did things that you have been told since you were eight not to do, and by that I mean play with tools without supervision and climb out of windows, then your bedtime will be the same as it was when you were eight," announced Gibbs.

"But it will still be light outside," he moaned.

"Then I'll make sure you have some thicker curtains up," answered Shannon cutting him off before he started whining again.

"Now with regard to the smoking," said Gibbs fixing him with a stern look, "I think you already know how stupid that was and I'm guessing that the horrible taste in your mouth will put you off of ever doing it again, and to remind you that its not a good taste and that if you keep smoking it will effect your taste buds, you are not allowed any sweets or pudding for two weeks. I know you have a sweet tooth and I want you to know what it would be like to miss out on ever tasting those things properly again."

This time Tony didn't respond. It was going to really suck for two weeks watching others eating the nice stuff when he couldn't but he worried that if he complained his dad would extend it to the four weeks.

"What I am most upset about was the stealing Tony," said Gibbs. "You will apologise to your Granddad before you go upstairs to bed, then tomorrow you will go to the store and work to earn back every penny of what you took from there and what you damaged. That way I hope you will see how much hard work you have to do to earn the money for those things and that you cannot just steal them from someone else."

"Yes Sir," answered Tony shame showing on his face and also knowing that his Granddad was likely to work him hard.

"Finally you are going to draw me a plan of where those traps are and what type and I and Steve will go out there tomorrow and take them down and check on your tree house at the same time to check its still safe," said Gibbs, "there is no room for negotiation on this one Tony."

Tony acknowledged this with a simple nod, but deep down he was still angry at his dad for ruining his work. It had been there for long enough without anyone getting hurt.

"Right so is there anything else you need to say or get off your chest or tell us about that we don't know and haven't already discussed?"

Tony thought for a moment, shoving his hands into his suit pant pockets as he did so. His fingers wrapped around something he had forgotten he'd put in there when in the store. He froze. This wasn't good. He'd escaped this far without any further spanking as a punishment but if he confessed this part his dad, mom and granddad would all surely want to take a turn in spanking him. He weighed up things in his mind. What he had he'd only taken a few of and the chances of anyone knowing that a few had gone were very slim, he could hide them for long enough until he had a chance to get rid of them to a better hiding place, Brad didn't know he had them as they had tried the cigarette before he had the chance to show them off so was unlikely to spill the beans on him. He thought about it a little longer. He didn't see why he should not have them, his granddad had put them on a shelf under the counter to throw out as he didn't want to sell them any more, and if his dad was going to remove all of his traps at the tree house he was going to need something else to use in its protection."

He slowly removed his hands from his pockets.

"No Sir," he replied, "that's everything."

"Good," said Gibbs relieved it was over. "Go and say goodnight to Grandma and don't forget to apologise to her for the worry you caused her, and I think Granddad needs a big apology before you go to bed, don't you?"

"Yes Sir," he agreed.

"Then go on," said Shannon moving him towards the door, "when you've finished go up and get ready for bed and I'll come and tuck you in."

Apologies done, goodnight kisses exchanged, Tony went up to bed. As he pulled off his pants and put his PJ's on his mind went back to the contraband in his pockets. He had to hide them somewhere. He looked around the room but few suitable hiding places existed. He went into the bathroom and was hit with an idea. His Granddad kept a glass bowl of fancy soap shapes and little tea lights on the windowsill. He told Tony long ago that they were a hangover from his Grandma Gibbs who used to like to take a bath with candles and fragrant smelling soaps and that he could never get rid of the reminder of her.

Tony hid the stolen goods in amongst the contents of the bowl. They weren't so dissimilar in shape or size or colour and who would think to go looking in there. The bowl had been there for years, untouched.

He cleaned his teeth and then went and got in bed, no use provoking his mom and dad anymore than he already had. He knew that in reality he had been lucky with his punishments. He suspected that Bradley had received a paddling; both boys had exchanged war stories in the past about getting into trouble with their dads. Tony had been spanked before, never like his father used to, and Gibbs had never used a belt on him and only ever threatened to paddle him but had never carried the threat through.

As he lay there and considered this guilt started to creep in about the hidden goods. He'd had a chance to come clean. Maybe his dad wouldn't have spanked him, perhaps he would have praised him for being honest. A feeling of nausea pervaded his senses, he should have said something and now it was too late. His thoughts were interrupted as his mom came in carrying with her a glass of milk.

"Are you alright sweetie?" she asked. "You know that as mad as dad and I are about what you did we still love you more than ever don't you?"

This only served to make Tony feel worse. Tears brimmed in his eyes.

Shannon seeing his distress and attributing it to the trouble he had been in and the fact that he was facing some lengthy punishments, tried to calm him, "It's ok this will all be over soon." She shuffled onto the bed next to him and passed him the glass of milk, just make me and dad proud of how well you work to pay Granddad back ok." She kissed him and wiped the milk moustache from his lip. "Now get some sleep as tomorrow will be a tough day and you'll need the energy."

Tony nodded off into a fitful sleep, his guilt bubbling away with the milk in his stomach.


	14. Chapter 14

Despite the fitful sleep, Gibbs had to gently shake Tony awake the next morning.

"Hey come on sleepy head get up and dressed," he said as Tony's eyes struggled to focus on the world around him.

"Urgh what time is it Dad?" he croaked his voice dry and still half asleep.

"0500 we need to get you and Granddad to work," replied Gibbs, "we need to sort the store out before it opens at 0700."

"That's like two hours away," moaned Tony trying to turn over and sleep again.

Scooping the duvet off of him and poking him gently in the ribs Gibbs replied, "yeah but we need to mend a window before we get started remember."

Tony did. Memories of yesterday were still vivid in his mind. He struggled to his feet.

"I need the bathroom first," he said about to head out of the door.

"Your Granddads in there," replied Gibbs, "he shaving, could be a while, use the downstairs one."

Tony headed downstairs. At this rate he wasn't going to be able to retrieve his contraband and hide it in a better place, he'd just have to hope that no one would see it.

Breakfast eaten (or in the case of the two adults coffee consumed) the three got in the truck to travel to the store. Jackson usually walked but his ankle was still swollen and he was relying on an old wooden walking stick to help him get about.

"Are you sure you don't want to get that checked out Dad?" asked Gibbs.

"Oh it's just a little sprained Son, don't worry about me, I have a nice stool I intend sitting on behind the counter whilst my newest worker does all of the heavy lifting," he turned and looked at Tony, "ain't that right kiddo?"

"Yes Sir," answered Tony still worried about how his Granddad would be with him since his injury.

"Hey we need to drop the Sir ok," he laughed, "makes me feel old."

Tony smiled weakly back.

"You know it's going to be alright Tony. When we get there and whilst your Dad fixes that window we are going to discuss your wages," explained Jackson.

"My wages?" asked Tony confused.

"Yeah, sure a man has to earn money to pay his debts off," added Jackson. "We can do an inventory of the things you and Bradley took from my store and the cost of boarding up that window and then work out what your jobs will be and how many hours you are going to have to work to pay it all off."

"How much does a new window cost?" asked Tony slightly worried that he would be working in the store until he graduated High School.

"Not going to charge you for a new window as I had to replace that anyway, but I need to pay Mr Miller for coming over and boarding it up for me yesterday because I couldn't do it myself. So there's the cost of the board and nails and his time, that is enough for you to be paying back on the window."

Tony stayed silent, without his burglary the window wouldn't have needed boarding up and without his traps then his Granddad wouldn't have been injured and could have boarded a window up himself.

Once at the store Gibbs grabbed a bunch of timbers and tools out the back of the truck. "I'll measure up for the glass and give the builders merchant in town a call to get it cut and leave the two of you to discuss business," said Gibbs and left Tony to help his Granddad out of the vehicle.

Once in the store Jackson pulled up a chair to the table in front of the counter.

"Take a seat opposite me Son," he commanded Tony who obeyed immediately.

Taking out some paper and a pencil and wetting the end of the pencil on his tongue, Jackson looked over to Tony. "Well you had better give me the list of what you and Bradley took from my store," he said.

Tony started to mumble his reply.

"Hey Son, you're going to have to speak up and take it slow," said Jackson, "if you had the nerve to break in here and steal my stock then I need you to have the strength to look me in the eye like the young man you are becoming and tell me what you took."

"Sorry Granddad," replied Tony, "shall I start again?"

"Yep and slowly," nodded Jackson, "from the top."

"Well I took two of your hammers, but I didn't use them," said Tony.

"Are they re-saleable?" asked Jackson.

"I think so," answered Tony, "but I could still pay for them."

"Well I could re-sell them but might have to knock the price down a bit," said Jackson thoughtfully, "so we'll discount them by $1.50 each, so that's $3 you owe me there. What's next?"

"There's the saw," answered Tony, "I had to use that to cut you down."

"So I can't re-sell that," said Jackson, "that adds $7 to your list. Carry on"

"I took two balls of string and a bucket of nails," said Tony, his guilt growing with the list of items.

"Well lets see, the nails can be re-sold at no loss as can one ball of the string but one was unraveled so that will cost you £1.50," Jackson recounted.

"Then there was the food," said Tony, "two packs of chips, two boxes of cookies, a large carton of milk, a box of Reese's butter cups, a dozen eggs, three tins of beans and a fruit loaf."

Jackson's mind boggled at the list. "Why did you take the eggs?"

"We were going to throw them at any intruders," admitted Tony.

"Ok, well as they are all food items, I can't resell any of them in the store, so you are going to have to pay for all of the groceries," said Jackson, "lets see that comes to $12."

Tony gulped as he did the math, he already owed $13.50 and they had not added in the window, the cigarettes or the other small items they'd taken including the lighter and a pack of cards.

By the time they had added in all of those Tony figured that if he got paid at the same rate as his weekly pocket money then he would be there for weeks.

"So Tony, your bill, minus goods returned and re-saleable comes to a grand total of $37.85," announced Jackson.

That was more money than Tony had ever had in one go.

"I am willing to employ you for 30 hours at $1.50 an hour," said Jackson, "your duties will be to sweep through the store twice a day, make sure the trash is always taken out, clean the shelves down once a day and help me re-stock and price items as and when needed. Tomorrow the front windows and door need washing and polishing and the sidewalk out front I always like to scrub down a couple of times a week. There may be other tasks you are required to do. I will give you 45 minutes for lunch, anything you eat at the store you will pay for, so you may want to bring sandwiches, you'll get two 15 minute breaks throughout the day and finally you will not touch that Winchester rifle understood?"

Tony just nodded slightly dumbfounded. He'd been given chores at home before and he thought that they were a lot but this was like a grown up full time job and it would only just pay back all of the things he had taken or broken.

"Right, you'll find an apron over there in the cupboard along with a dustpan and broom," said Jackson, "I want the whole store, stock room and bathroom area swept out. Don't scoop up the broken glass yourself you call me to help you, now jump to it."

Tony pulled on the huge apron from the cupboard. It hung by his feet and he was in danger of tripping on it. Gibbs returned from measuring up in the bathroom and took pity on him.

"Come here lets see if we can make it fit," he said, "now if we fold this up around your waist and tie the strings right the way around you that should stop you tripping over."

"Thanks Dad," Tony let out a small smile.

"Hey don't mention it," said Gibbs ruffling his hair, "I'm proud you are being grown up enough to take this punishment like a man, that takes a lot of guts. Did Granddad add up how much you owe him?"

"Yes $37.85," said Tony, "he took some money off for the things he can re-sell."

"Wow that's going to take you a while to earn that money," said Gibbs, "you up to the task?"

"I think so, Granddad has a list of chores for me to do," Tony answered.

"Then you'd better get started," smiled Gibbs, "I recall having to work for him as a kid and he is a hard task master. He will be checking up on you to make sure you are doing the best work you can."

"I'll do my best," said Tony.

"I'm sure you will," smiled Gibbs, "I'll let you get started."

Tony spent the next hour sweeping out the store and stockroom so that the store could be opened up for the first customers to come in. When he got to the bathroom the sight of the broken window reminded him of why he was there working so early in the morning. He carefully swept the glass into the corner and went to fetch Jackson to gather it up for him.

"That looks a fine job," said Jackson having inspected all of the areas. "Now I have a job where you can sit down."

He walked him over to the shelves containing all of the tins. "These shelves need everything taken off and then you need to wash them down. When you put the tins back on they all need lining up properly and I need you to make a list of each item and how many tins we have so we can re-stock. When you've done these shelves you can work through the rest, I'll get you the water and cloths."

Tony pulled up a small step stool and started emptying the shelves, noting down in his best handwriting what the tins were and how many of each he had. He looked around at the amount of shelves within the store. This was going to take him ages and he still had all of the other jobs to do. His arms were already tired from the sweeping up and emptying one shelf.

He became so engrossed in the job that he lost track of the time. Jackson called him over to the counter to tell him to go take his break and that there was a drink and some toast waiting for him in the store.

"Do I have to pay for that?" asked Tony, wondering how much it was going to add onto what he owed.

"No this ones on me for the good job you've been doing. I want you to be able to keep up the good work," smiled Jackson, "your Mom's going to bring you some lunch over later, save you some money."

"Thank you," said Tony.

"You need to thank her and your Grandma who are busy making them," stated Jack.

"I will Granddad," Tony responded.

Tony finished off his snack and washed up his plate and glass and left them to dry by the sink.

He went back to his shelves, he was actually enjoying the task, not the actual cleaning part of it but the restacking and making them look neat and tidy. When his Granddad showed him how to price them up and left him to restock the shelves he couldn't wait to see his first set of shelves completely filled and looking picture perfect. He almost didn't want anyone to come in and buy anything in case it messed the display up.

When his mom arrived with Kelly in her buggy, his stomach was already rumbling and ready for lunch. Kelly was in a grump, feeling slightly poorly and possibly starting to cut a tooth. The only thing that seemed to calm her down was a little wooden music box that played 'hush little baby.'

His mom stayed with him throughout lunch, asking about what he'd been doing and taking a look at his work. As lunch finished she kissed him goodbye and wheeled Kelly out of the store promising she would make his favourite dinner for him when he got home and would hear about the rest of his day.

As 1700 hours came around Tony was completely worn out. As he rode home with his Granddad and Dad he nodded off in the back seat.

"How'd he do Dad?" asked Gibbs.

"He's a hard worker and takes a pride in it," nodded Jackson, "you would have been proud of him today, even helped some of the old ladies out to their cars with their groceries without being asked. When they gave him a few dollars tip I was expecting him to ask if he could take that off of what he owed but he put the money in the charity box and carried on as if it was the most natural thing in the world."

Gibbs smiled and checked on Tony in the rear view mirror. "Do you think he's going to make it through the 30 hours Dad?"

"You bet," said Jackson, "he's a little fighter but we might make the days a little shorter for him."

Once home and all sat around the dinner table Tony regaled them with how the pricing gun worked and just how many tins of tomatoes he'd had to re-stock. He had determined that half the town must be Italian and making bolognaise sauce.

As they talked a storm was brewing outside but the atmosphere in the little house was happy.

As they sat in the lounge Joanne announced that she was going to take a bath before going and reading in her room, she thought she had a bit of a summer cold coming on and didn't want to pass it onto the kids.

Joanne had been soaking in the tub for no more than a few minutes when the storm outside struck hard. A bolt of lightning took out one of the local relay stations and power went throughout the town.

Stuck in the bath, she really didn't want to get out, the water was still warm. She recalled Jackson kept some tea-lights in the glass bowl and there was a small box of matches in the ornate soap dish that was used for anything and everything but soap. She reached around for the matches and felt around in the bowl for a candle, her hand coming to rest upon a wick that came from a small round candle. Her eyes still not accustomed to the dark she set the would be candle on the side of the bath and struck a match.

It took a while for her to get the wick to light and when it did it seemed to fizz, she guessed it was just the newness of the wick burning off. She waited for the candle to flicker into life, it was taking its time, she laid back in the tub.

"BANG"

A thunderous noise erupted from the edge of the tub. Joanne and half a tub of water leapt out of the enamel bath which still seemed to be reverberating from the sound.

The family downstairs reacted in a similar way running up to the bathroom wondering if the house had been hit by lightning, worried to see if Joanne was alright.

As they hit the first floor Joanne came staggering out of the bathroom wrapped only in a towel, her ears ringing.

"Mom what happened?" asked Shannon going straight to her.

"What? You need to speak up," she shouted, "can't hear a thing lit a damn candle and the thing exploded."

Tony went deathly pale.

"What candle?" shouted Shannon back.

"One from the bowl on the windowsill," Joanna replied.

Tony knew he had to say or do something, he knew it wasn't a candle she lit.

"Dad can I talk to you in private please," he asked.

"In a moment Tony as soon as I've found out what exploded,' he said.

"Dad what if I know what it was," Tony was practically shaking.

All of the adults turned to look at him.

"Then you had better start talking Son and quickly," said Gibbs, "lets go to your room."


	15. Chapter 15

Gibbs sat on Tony's bed whilst the little boy paced up and down trying to work out how the heck he was going to explain this but explain it he must. Why hadn't he just come clean, he was sure he'd made this worse. He'd never seen his Grandma so scared and seemingly losing her hearing and it had only been the day before that he was responsible for tethering his Granddad to a tree by his ankle.

Gibbs waited as patiently as he could knowing that Tony needed to summon up the courage to confess to him whatever it was he had done. Tony had to know that he could come to him with anything and that he should do it as early as possible, not when it was too late. Lateness of confession is what would always get him into more trouble. Gibbs thought he had imparted this particular piece of wisdom to Tony but clearly the lesson had not been learnt, or if once learnt it had soon been forgotten.

"Tony," he called, "I need you to tell me everything in your own words, I promise I will listen."

Tony wasn't worried about his dad listening though; he was more worried about the consequences that would follow. He had done it, who would want him around if they thought he was out to kill off his family, that's what his birth father had accused him of doing to his birth mother. Perhaps he had been right.

"It wasn't a candle Sir," he stutteringly let the words out.

"I'd guessed that much Tony," said Gibbs, "are you able to tell me what it was?"

"Um er I er think that perhaps er um," Tony couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Tony you asked to speak to me in private so I know you obviously have the courage to own up to whatever this is but I need to hear it from your lips in your own time," said Gibbs.

Tony nodded, his dad had just said he had courage but he wasn't sure that was right. He continued to pace.

Gibbs took hold of his hands and held them tightly in his bringing him to a stop in his pacing. He could feel that Tony's hands felt ice cold but clearly clammy. Tony could feel the warmth of his dad's rough hands filtering through to him.

"Tony look at me please," said Gibbs, "I just need you to try to tell me again, just tell me what it was you think your Grandma lit instead of a candle."

"I …. I think it was either a Ch…Cherry B..omb or a M80 cracker," Tony stuttered his admission.

Gibbs bit his lips to stop himself reacting angrily but Tony felt his Dads hands tense slightly around his, before loosening again as he took a deep breathe.

"So why do you think it was one of them?" asked Gibbs.

Tony started to cry and within seconds he was sobbing.

"Because I stole them from Granddads store," he wept.

Taking another deep breath Gibbs continued, still holding Tony's hands to give him support, "when did you steal them?" He hoped to goodness that it wasn't today whilst Tony was working at the store.

"Yesterday Sir," said Tony.

"So when I asked you last night if there was anything else you needed to tell me, you lied to me," said Gibbs fixing his gaze on his son.

"I'd forgotten at first," cried Tony, "and then you told me what the punishments were and then I found them in my pockets and I panicked you would think I had deliberately lied to you."

"But Tony in panicking like that you did deliberately lie to me," said Gibbs. "Tell me why you thought I would be angry."

"Because I know I wasn't allowed any fireworks or bangers on my own and because I'd stolen them," answered Tony.

"Well that's right but can you tell me why we said you couldn't have any?"

"Cos I'm not old enough to have any," sobbed Tony.

"And why aren't you old enough?" asked Gibbs who was pretty sure he had gone over this with Tony several times in the past when the kid kept asking for some.

"Because you say they are dangerous and could hurt me Sir," sniffed Tony.

"Not just hurt you Tony but burnt you and scarred you for life, can you imagine the pain if that had gone off in your hands, it could have burnt you or blinded you, we don't just say these things to be mean we say them to protect you."

Yes Sir," Tony's head sunk to his chest that was still heaving with sobs.

"So how did they come to be in the bathroom?" asked Gibbs.

"I hid them in Grandma Gibbs' bowl, I didn't think anyone would see them in there," answered Tony. "They looked like her soaps and candles I didn't think anyone would use them."

"What were you going to do with them?" asked Gibbs.

"Use them to defend my tree house," muttered Tony.

"You were going to throw them at people?" asked Gibbs astounded.

"No Sir, just frighten them off," said Tony.

"So let's come back to the main question shall we?" asked Gibbs pausing and lifting Tony's head up so he was looking him in the eyes. "Why did you lie to me last night?"

"I thought you would spank me because I'd done something dangerous and you had already spanked me for shouting at you and I didn't want to be spanked again," admitted Tony, tears still flowing.

"Tony you had already been punished for the other dangerous things you did, now did any of them involve spanking?" asked Gibbs.

"No Sir," answered Tony in a low voice.

"No, I gave you other punishments to remind you why you shouldn't smoke or climb through windows and down trellises and if you had told me about the fireworks last night I would have found some other way to punish you for those too but now it's different Tony. I can cope with you being naughty or doing stuff you shouldn't as long as you are honest with me about them because that way I can help you and teach you not to do them again but if I don't know because you deliberately lie to me it's going to upset me a lot because it means I can't protect you. I'm your Dad Tony and it scares me to think that I could loose you or see you badly injured. It would break me and your mom, Tony."

Tony could hear the genuine upset and concern in his dad's voice. It wasn't something that as a big bad marine he did very often but when it happened it hit Tony right in the chest. Tony stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his dad's neck. Gibbs in turn wrapped his strong protective arms around Tony's waist and held him tight.

"I'm so sorry Dad," cried Tony.

"I know you are Tony, but I need to teach you that lying to me puts you in far greater danger than if you come clean straightaway," explained Gibbs.

"You don't have to, I understand," begged Tony.

"We've tried that before Tony, you have to know that you will always get into far more trouble if you lie to me than if you tell me the truth however horrid it is," said Gibbs keeping his tone calm even though he was building up to something he hated doing and tried to avoid.

"If you have come clean last night your punishment would not have changed, it would just have been added to the theft and danger parts of what we were dealing with," he paused before adding, "but now I am going to spank you so that you understand that lying hurts more than telling the truth."

"No please, you don't have to," cried Tony, "I'll learn I promise I will."

"I need to make sure of that Tony because I will not risk your safety by worrying that you won't come to me with the truth of what is going on," said Gibbs, "so I'm going to pop downstairs and check on Grandma and get a light to bring up here as it's getting dark, I need you to use the bathroom and get your PJ's on and wait for me, I'll only be a few minutes, are you big enough to accept all this?"

Tony just nodded.

"Right come show me where all of these other ones are and lets take them out somewhere safe before anyone else mistakes them," said Gibbs gently pushing the kid to the bathroom.

The side of the bath was blackened and the floor was soaking where Joanne had leapt out. A strange burning smell still pervaded the air in there. Gibbs opened the window slightly to allow fresh air in. The clean up would have to wait until they had more light in there. Tony fished the other bombs out of the bowl.

"Is that all of them?" asked Gibbs shoving five further explosives into his pocket to take out of there.

"Yes Sir I promise," said Tony.

"Good, then use the toilet and get your teeth cleaned before you get ready for bed," commanded Gibbs.

He then left and went down to where the rest of the family, including Joanne, was gathered around a pot of tea to calm the nerves that Jackson had heated up on the open fire place.

"Did he tell you what it was Leroy?" asked Jackson.

"Sure did Dad," said Gibbs producing the fireworks from his pocket.

"They from my store?" asked Jackson.

"Yep he wanted them to protect his tree house he thinks it's a bolt hole for him if we throw him out," sighed Gibbs.

"That damn father of his ought to have been strung up for what he's done to that boys confidence," growled Jack.

"What are you going to do to him?" asked Shannon.

"I'm going to spank him Shan, can't add to the grounding or anything else and he's got to know that it hurts more to lie."

"Don't be too harsh," she asked him, "I'm sure he's sorry."

"I know he is," said Gibbs, "I just need to make sure we don't go through this again."

Gibbs popped through to the back room and pulled out a couple of old oil lamps. Lighting one he put it into the living room for the rest of the family. The other he lit and carried upstairs to Tony's room.

He found the little boy, face washed, teeth cleaned and clad in PJ's stood waiting for him by the bed.

Gibbs set the lamp down on the desk and sat himself down on the edge of the bed moving Tony to stand in front of him. He noticed that Tony's PJ's looked a little tight, perhaps it was the light, perhaps the kid was growing.

"Now I want to hear from you the reason I am about to spank you," he said.

Tony swallowed noisily, "er because I lied to you about the fireworks Sir."

Gibbs nodded, "that's right and would you be getting a spanking if you had told me last night?"

"No Sir," Tony's almost whispered response.

"Come on then," said Gibbs as he maneuvered Tony to his side and pulled him over his knee.

He brought his hand down on the PJ clad bottom in front of him. Something didn't feel right. He tried a second smack and then stood Tony up. It felt as if there was too much clothing beneath his hand. He pulled down the PJ's only to find another two pairs underneath. Tony was holding his breath. Gibbs bit back a grin and then took on a serious tone.

"Tony stand yourself up," he ordered.

"Just how many sets of clothing are you wearing?" he asked.

Tony's eyes brimmed with tears, "three pairs of PJ bottoms," he answered, and then added, "and four pairs of underwear."

"Ah Tony, I'm not going to smack your bottom with anything other than my hand and I was going to do the most of it over your PJ's, but I do need you to feel it so that next time you remember how uncomfortable it was to sit for a while afterwards," explained Gibbs.

"I thought you might use your paddle," sniffed Tony, "I was worried about what it felt like. I know I deserve it."

Gibbs could feel his heart breaking, it was hard to carry on.

"Tony just my hand but now you have lost the protection of any clothing so take everything down please," he said.

Tony looked at him with the kind of tear filled eyes that Gibbs had last seen on the TV when he had watched Bambi with Tony a year ago. Then he had to pretend that he had something in his eye as Bambi found out his mom had died as he didn't want Shannon to think that he had cried at the kid's film.

"Come on Son," he urged stealing himself against the impassioned look.

Tony took down all of the layers one by one, each time looking to his dad in the hope he would relent and say that was enough, but Gibbs held strong, he wasn't sure how he managed it but he did.

Tony was once again draped over his knee, his bare butt exposed to the discipline from his father's hand. Why had he been so stupid, he could have avoided all of this.

The hand came down for the tenth smack at which point tears and snot were pouring from Tony. Gibbs knew he didn't need to drag this out; it was already having an effect. He adjusted Tony on his knees and exposed the sit spot, the bit every kid hated. As he smacked the sensitive area he lectured.

"You must learn that it is never the right thing to lie to me or your mom."

"If you lie to us you hurt us and it puts you in danger, that's never acceptable."

"You are too loved for any of us to ever want to see you hurt."

"This family would have a huge whole in it if you weren't here, so would my heart."

"You need to get it into that brain of yours that you are not going anywhere other than with us, we will never let you go Tony."

The little boy was weeping. Gibbs stopped. He reached down to the floor and picked up the baggiest pair of PJ's gently pulling them over Tony's feet and sliding over his red rear end. It hadn't been the harshest spanking, it hadn't needed to be. Gibbs just prayed that they wouldn't be in this position anytime soon.

Having dressed Tony, he pulled the boy up into his arms, cradling him so that his butt wasn't touching any surface. He held him in that way until the kid's tears stopped and his breathing had returned to normal. He then popped him down on the bed and nipped into the bathroom. When he returned he washed Tony's face with a damp cloth and then hugged him to him.

"Can we start all over again?" he asked. "You trying to trust me and me trying to see your point of view before it all blows up in our faces?"

"Or in our bathroom," Tony tried to use humour to hide his upset.

"Yep or in our bathroom," chuckled Gibbs, "I don't think your Grandma is going to be taking any more candlelit baths for a time do you?"

"No Dad, does she know I'm sorry?" asked Tony looking up through his long damp lashes to try to read his fathers face.

"I will tell her tonight, and you can tell her in the morning, but I'm sure she knows, we're family after all," said Gibbs. "Anyway I have something I want to give you," he said slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out a small door key on a leather strap.

"What is it?" asked Tony taking it into his hand and pulling it close to him to take a better look.

"It's the key to the only bolt hole you'll ever need," said Gibbs taking it from the kid and putting it around his neck. It hung against his heart. "It's the key to the front door of our house, you keep it on you all the time and then if you ever feel like you have to run it reminds you that the place to go to is home where you'll find all of us waiting for you."


	16. Chapter 16

When Tony awoke the next morning the rest of the house was still fast asleep. He reached over to see if his bedside light would work, but still there was no power. Grabbing for his little flash light he checked the clock 0430. Too late to be going back to sleep and too early to really do anything but sit in bed and wait for the rest of the family to start waking up to get to the store.

He rolled himself into a sitting position and was then uncomfortably reminded of why he had finally fallen asleep that night laying on his stomach. His butt stung, he swore he could still feel the heat coming off of it even though his Dad hadn't smacked it too many times. He grabbed a mirror and tried to shine his torch onto it. The redness of the night before had gone.

Tony thought about the day ahead. He still had a lot to work through on his list to pay his granddad back. The day before had been good. He'd enjoyed working and enjoyed his mom coming to see him with his lunch, a lunch that his Grandma had made for him. He thought about that. He couldn't expect his Grandma to make his sandwiches today; he still owed her a huge apology. He didn't want to have to pay his granddad for food at the store as that would come out of his wages. Earning money was hard going and wasting it on things he didn't need was silly when he didn't have much. The way ahead was to make his own. That way he wouldn't have to pay, and Grandma wouldn't have to make some for him and she could rest her frayed nerves instead.

Quietly he got up and ready to go to work. He crept downstairs voiding the creaky step that he knew always woke the family up and made his way to the kitchen.

Opening up the refrigerator he spied all of the things in there that he would have loved to eat, cherry pie, chocolate brownies and a vanilla cheesecake. Temptation tried to overtake him, he licked his lips he could almost taste them. Closing his eyes he remembered why he wasn't allowed any. Instead he reached past the forbidden items to grab the butter, cheese and pickle. He made his way over to the kitchen table and turned to grab the bread from the bin on the side. As he did so he saw his Dad standing in the doorway watching him.

"Hey Tony, did you sleep alright?" he asked.

"Yeah just woke up early and couldn't sleep again," answered Tony.

"I thought you might have read one of your comics and clung to your bed a little longer," said Gibbs moving into the kitchen.

Tony blushed, "I couldn't sit down very comfortably," he said.

"Oh," answered Gibbs worried that maybe he'd been too harsh, "is your bottom still sore?"

"Not really, just uncomfortable," muttered Tony, "I'm ok though."

"So what are you doing up and in the kitchen?" Gibbs enquired.

"Making my sandwiches for work," he answered, "Mom and Grandma made then yesterday but I want Grandma to know I'm sorry and I can't afford to pay Granddad for food from the store because it will mean I have to work even longer hours to afford it."

Gibbs smiled to himself, Tony was a smart kid and clearly the lessons he was being taught were kicking in.

"Can I give you a hand?" he offered.

"Could you take the lid off of the pickle please?" asked Tony.

Gibbs scooped it up and undid the lid. "You need a hand with anything else?"

"No Sir," said Tony, struggling masterfully with the breadknife and loaf.

"Then just watch your fingers," warned Gibbs, "doing this all by torch light isn't easy is it?"

"No but I am going to get the job done," commented Tony.

"I'm sure you will do just fine," nodded Gibbs proud of the kids determination. "Any chance of you making your old man a sandwich too?"

"What for breakfast?" asked Tony.

"No silly, for lunch, Steve and I are going to go and make sure that tree house of yours is safe and remove those traps before anyone else gets hurt, I didn't get a chance to do it yesterday."

"Is Bradley going to be there?" Tony asked, his hand subconsciously going to the key that hung by his chest under his t-shirt. Gibbs didn't fail to spot the sign though.

"No his mom and dad have him doing community service as part of his punishment, he's mowing all of the lawns of the old people in the town," said Gibbs.

"Is he alright?" asked Tony.

"Sure why do you ask?" asked Gibbs a little puzzled.

"Well he is older than me and he tried to take the blame for it all and I know that his dad sometimes paddles him," blurted out Tony.

"Hey kiddo, Steve and I both got the paddle when we were little and Steve would not use it too harshly on Brad," started Gibbs, "as for him trying to take all the blame, well Steve knows what its like to be the bigger brother in trouble, and he knows that his parents never let him take the blame for everything."

"But isn't that what a big brother does?" asked Tony.

"Heck no," said Gibbs, "they will always try to protect their younger brother or sister, and wouldn't let anyone harm them, but they are the more experienced kids, it's their job to teach the younger one not to make the same mistakes as they made, so for instance when Kelly is older and if she tried to climb down that trellis what would you do?"

"Well I would tell her to stop," said Tony.

"And if she didn't?" asked Gibbs, "I'm guessing little sisters can be real stubborn."

"Well I could tell her about the trouble I got into for doing it," suggested Tony.

"You could but she still might not listen so what else could you do?"

"I don't know I could tell her about you getting spanked when you were little for doing it?" added Tony.

Gibbs blushed a little himself now, "well I guess you could tell her my horror stories but what I would really expect you to do is come get me or mom or an adult really quickly."

"What it's my job to snitch on her?" asked Tony incredulously.

"It wouldn't be snitching Tony it would be doing the right thing," said Gibbs.

"But she would get into trouble with you and I'm supposed to protect her," argued Tony.

"Then think of it like this," said Gibbs, "would you prefer she got a smacked bottom or ended up with a broken leg?"

"Oh I see," said Tony, "its like trying to find the best solution for her even when she might not want either."

"You got it Son," smiled Gibbs kissing the kids head, "I'm really proud of you Son. Now how is my cheese and pickle sandwich coming along?"

Tony presented him with a sandwich that was more like a doorstep than a light snack but as far as Gibbs was concerned it was the best meal he had ever had made for him.

"Now we'd better get some fruit to have with this," announced Gibbs, "keep your mom happy and stop her nagging us about not eating enough fruit and veg."

Tony giggled, a sound that Gibbs never got tired of hearing.

"So I nag do I?" asked Shannon appearing in the doorway behind them, having been stood there for a while listening to their conversation.

"No Ma'am," Gibbs winked at Tony, "I'm sure you are just helping us find the best solution for us even when he don't want either."

Jackson came into the kitchen at that minute too and gently slapped the back of Gibbs head.

"Hey Dad what was that for?" he asked dramatically rubbing his head and making Tony laugh even louder.

"Being cheeky to your wife and momma to my grandkids," laughed Jackson.

"Aw how come I'm the one in trouble," complained Gibbs carrying the laughter on, "Tony isn't keen on fruit either."

"Dad please don't throw me under the bus as well, I'm already in enough trouble as it is," Tony said pretending to be very serious, "As it so happens I love fruit."

"Good," said Shannon, "then you can take a banana and an apple."

"Oh boy," sighed Tony dramatically, "Dad don't say anymore mom will have us looking like Carman Miranda before you've finished."

They were now all laughing and the noise seemed to wake Kelly up. Shannon disappeared back upstairs to go to her.

"Kelly still not sleeping well?" asked Jackson.

"Not really, getting to calm and go to sleep is the biggest problem," said Gibbs, "Shan is exhausted with it and I'm not too far behind."

"She'll grow out of it," advised Jackson, "you did."

"I was a perfect baby Dad," laughed Gibbs, "mom always told be so."

"So that's why she and I had to spend about a year of your life having to sing you to sleep is it?" grinned Jack.

"Maybe I just liked cabaret," Gibbs joked back.

"Why you cheeky young…." Jackson paused realizing Tony was in the room. Instead he landed a playful smack on Gibbs' backside, "you aren't to young for a trip across my knee either," he laughed.

Tony was sniggering quietly, "I like your singing Granddad."

Jackson grinned, "well I'm glad someone in this family had taste. Now are you ready for work?"

"I've not had breakfast yet," said Tony.

"Well I could make you bacon and eggs at the store on the old camp stove," said Jackson.

"How much would that cost?" asked Tony liking the thought of bacon and eggs Granddad style but unsure whether he could afford it.

"It would be free Tony," he answered.

"But I thought I had to pay for anything I ate there and you gave me toast yesterday for free," Tony pointed out.

"Well I'd forgotten that but if you want to pay your way it would cost you fifty cents," he answered.

"That's like 20 minutes hard work," said Tony, "would I still earn enough to pay you back what I owe you?"

"You will," Jackson smiled at him.

"Then bacon and eggs sounds good," said Tony.

"I might join you in that," Gibbs added.

"Well it will cost you one dollar," announced Jackson.

"Hey why is it more expensive for me?" asked Gibbs watching Tony giggle again.

"Well you're older, earn more per hour and are far cheekier to me than my grandson is," Jackson accentuated his reply with a firm nod. "So come on lets get going."

Gibbs drove the two workers in to the store, ate breakfast and then left them there to head home before going to collect Steve.

Tony spent another busy day washing windows and cleaning the sidewalk outside of the shop, by closing time he has beat. He and Jackson waited for Gibbs but he didn't arrive. Jackson rang the house and got an irate Joanne on the other end. Gibbs wasn't there, he and Steve hadn't come back and someone had helped themselves to a large helping of her cherry pie.

Jackson worried that his son had got caught up in one of the traps with Steve. Not wanting to panic Tony he announced they would be walking home.

"Are you ok to walk that far Granddad?" asked Tony.

"Yes Son, perhaps with a little help from you, it's been much better being able to rest it these past couple of days," said Jack.

"You could have a soak in the bath mom says that always makes her aches and pains go away," suggested the kid.

"Yeah I might just do that," answered Jackson locking up the store behind him, and then chuckled, "but without any candles hey?"

"That would probably be wise Sir," answered Tony taking hold of his Granddads hand, "you can lean on me if you need to."

The two made it home, Jack noticed the truck was still outside the house but when he went inside Gibbs wasn't back.

"I'll go find him," he told Shannon, "won't be long."

Jackson set off up to the tree house and as he approached he could see a pile of wood and ropes stacked up from the traps which had been dismantled. He heard laughter coming from up in the tree house but as he made his way over there, he heard an enormous boom and then the laughter and whooping in the tree house increased along with the clinking of what sounded like beer bottles.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Steven Michael Adler, get your butts down here now," called Jackson.

Over the ledge of the tree house two heads appeared.

"Oh hi Dad," "Hi Mr Gibbs."

The two adults looked at one another with a certain amount of trepidation.

"Don't you pair 'Hi" me get down here," said Jackson, "carefully," he added, "seems like you two have been drinking."

"It's a picnic Dad," said Gibbs climbing down first, "we were just catching up on old time."

"And did you have to act them out like silly teenagers," asked Jackson.

"We didn't drink a lot Mr Gibbs," said Steve climbing down to stand at the side of Gibbs. He and Gibbs practically giggled at the fact that they were in trouble just like when they were kids.

"Seems to me that the amount you had to drink is up for debate," said Jackson, "now am I right in thinking that the explosion was the cherry bombs and M80's I told you to get rid of?"

"Yes Sir," nodded Gibbs trying to stand up straight, "just making sure that Tony and Bradley can't ever use them again Sir."

"And you two geniuses thought that getting drunk and setting them off would be a good idea?" said Jack.

"Well we thought it through," said Steve. "We made a chute to set it off down so that it would be a long way from us when it went off and we wouldn't have to rely on being able to run away."

Jackson smacked the pair of them around the head.

"Ow Dad," complained Gibbs, "it was safe."

"And is that what you would have told your son last night when you were sober and dealing with his infractions?"

"Er I guess not," said Gibbs, "sorry Sir."

"Go get your rubbish out of the tree house," Jackson ordered, "I can't believe the pair of you."

"Sorry Mr Gibbs," said Steve still rubbing his head.

"You both might want to save your apologies until you yet home, Joanne is fuming about her cherry pie and I'm guessing it made a nice addition to your picnic," stated Jackson.

"Oh boy is she mad, we only took a slice each," said Steve.

"She'd made it for Mrs Barraclough over the road to thank her for the gift she had made for Kelly's christening," said Jack, "she's had to make another one today now."

The three men, made their way back to the house. Jackson walking in the middle of the two, causing them every so often to giggle like drunken teenage boys when they remembered being marched home in this fashion before.

"Boys stop the giggling and sober up before you get home," demanded Jackson, "next time you giggle or laugh about this the smack you both get won't be to the back of your heads."

That seemed to silence both men who entered the house in a much more somber and sober frame of mind.

"Hi Joanne," Gibbs and Steve both tried as they entered the kitchen where she was helping Shannon prepare the tea.

Joanne turned to take in the sight of the two men who stood before her with guilt written all over their faces and their heads bowed.

"Sorry about the pie," said Steve, "it was really good and we didn't realize it wasn't one you'd made for the family."

"Yeah I'm sorry," added Gibbs, "guess we ought to have asked first."

"You think?" said Jack tapping him at the back of the head again.

"Won't happen again Ma'am," said Gibbs, "although it did taste delicious."

Joanne tried to hide the small smile that threatened to break out. She liked that they loved her cooking really and she couldn't help but think on how much the two of them reminded her of her grandson and his friend.

"Well don't let it happen again," she pronounced judgment.

"No Ma'am," the two replied in tandem.

At that point Tony came in from the lounge, already showered and wearing his PJ's as they were the most comfortable thing he owned as he ached from the days work and his bottom still ached every now and again.

"Are Dad and Uncle Steve in trouble?" he asked his mom seeing the two adults stood as if called to account.

"Just a little," said Shannon, "nothing to worry about though."

Tony went up to his Dad and wrapped his arms around him, "never mind Dad you can always help me at the store and Uncle Steve can help Bradley with mowing lawns for your punishment."

"What a good idea Tony," Jackson congratulated him, "that should keep them both out of trouble."

Later that evening whilst both Tony and Gibbs watched the rest of the family eating pie whilst they washed up, Tony turned to his Dad, "this no pudding punishment sucks doesn't it?"


	17. Chapter 17

Tony's final day of work was looming, in a way he was going to miss it. Not the tiredness or the aching, although even they had been bearable knowing that he was doing was working away his debts and his guilt.

What he was going to miss was the fact that he felt quite grown up and responsible and of course that his Granddad had made him the supervisor over his Dad so that he could instruct him when and how to sweep up. He had got him to stack the higher shelves whilst tony directed how the goods should be on there and he carried in the boxes for Tony to stack the lower shelves. He'd even been given a pay rise to two dollars an hour whilst he was in charge.

When Granddad had told his Dad that he, Leroy Jethro Gibbs would only be earning a dollar an hour because he was a trainee Tony had watched his Dad protest and then pout. He had found this funny but took his role as supervisor very seriously and had told his dad that if he did a good job then he would give him the extra 50 cents an hour that he was now earning to make up for it. Gibbs had smiled at this and picked him up and kissed him only to be scolded by Tony because apparently this was not the sort of thing the trainee would do to the boss in public, but had added that he wouldn't mind having a cuddle at any other time.

By lunchtime, Shannon, Joanne and Kelly paid them all a visit to find out how they were going on and sat and had lunch with them. Kelly in her buggy was sat close to where the shelves with the little toys and trinkets were situated. Tony watched her as she pointed to items and tried to reach out to grab them and on one occasion when none of the adults were watching she grabbed hold of a large rubber snake and the music box she had been playing with the other day and dragged them into her buggy.

Tony went over to the buggy and knelt down in front of her.

"Kelly you can't take them off of the shelf because that's naughty," he explained and then knowing that a 6 month old was going to be unable to answer he added, "I think we need to put them back on the shelf and find you one of your toys to play with."

Whilst Kelly couldn't speak she was able to show her displeasure in other ways and threw the rubber snake in Tony's face causing him to fall over backwards and land on his bum. Shannon was about to say something and intervene but Gibbs held a hand up to ask her to give Tony a minute to see if he could sort this out.

Tony knelt back up again, rubbing his bottom furiously. "Kelly that was not very nice, you hurt me and it's naughty to throw things." He fixed her with a Gibbs like stare and Kelly who had been babbling at him and occasionally adding in a high pitched screech for good measure instantly stopped and sank back into the buggy and poked her bottom lip right out.

"Now," announced Tony, "we are going to put the box back too before you get in trouble. You really don't want a smacked bottom because they hurt and if you don't do it I'm going to tell mommy and daddy."

Whether or not Kelly understood what he was saying to her or not she held the little box out to him and let him take it from her and replace it on the shelf. He then pulled another of her toys out of the bottom of her buggy and distracted her with that.

When lunchtime was over and the rest of the family was about to leave, Shannon went over to Tony and kissed him.

"Thank you for taking care of Kelly earlier," she said.

"I didn't want her getting into trouble like me," said Tony. "But I'm not sure she understands."

"Well she understood enough to give you the things back," commented Shannon, "and you did a great job in distracting her with one of her own toys. I'm very proud of you, I think you were the perfect big brother."

Tony smiled, "I think I can be, but Kelly is going to be a handful!"

Shannon laughed, and whispered into his ear, "I agree but it's going to make for some fantastic stories."

"You aren't going to tell her off about this time though are you?" Tony quickly checked.

"No I think you already did a great job in handing it and next time I won't park her buggy so close to the toys," smiled Shannon before stroking his hair and giving him another kiss.

By the end of the day Tony was once again tired but also looked a little sad.

"Hey kiddo, what's the matter?" asked Jackson.

"I'm ok Granddad," smiled Tony trying his best to look happy, "but I'm going to miss working here."

"Well I'm sure we can arrange for you to help me out when ever you come to visit if you'd like," replied Jack pulling his Grandson into a warm hug. "I kind of enjoy having you working here too. Now we should sort your wages out."

Jackson walked over to the till and opened it up. "So how much did we say that you earned?" he said, "lets see, 20 hours at $1.50 and another 10 at $2.00. That's $50."

"But I promised Dad I would give him my extra 50 cents per hour," stated Tony.

"Has he worked hard enough to earn it?" asked Jackson.

Nodding vigorously Tony gave his Dad a glowing reference, "he worked really hard and I think he deserves it."

"Well surely you deserved a little more for being his boss too?" said Jackson.

"I don't mind I wanted to do something nice for him," announced Tony.

"Well why don't you just pay for his breakfast the other day?" suggested Jackson.

"Ok I think he would like that," Tony was pleased.

"Right then your total earnings are $50, you owe me $37.85 for goods taken and a further $1.50 for your breakfast and your Dads, that leaves you with $10.65," said Jackson counting out the money onto the high wooden counter.

"Granddad would I be allowed to spend it and buy something from your shop?" asked Tony.

"Well if you wanted to, it's your money and you had to work very hard for it," said Jackson.

"I do but can you keep what I'm buying a secret for a little while?" asked Tony.

"It's not sweets is it?" asked Jackson.

"No Sir," said Tony, "It's this."

He placed the object on the counter. "Have I got enough money to buy it?"

"Lets see, It should be $12," said Jackson and watched Tony's head sink, "that is before we apply the discount that all employees get so that should bring it down to $10.65 exactly."

Tony beamed, "Thank you Granddad." He pushed his left over earnings across the desk and waited whilst Jackson wrapped the object up in tissue paper and handed it to him with a receipt.

"Now lets sort out our newest staff member," chuckled Jackson, "Leroy have you finished sweeping up yet?" he called out.

"Yes Dad, I'm in the kitchen," Gibbs called back, "just getting a coffee."

"I hope you are putting that on your tab," Jackson called back.

Gibbs popped his head out of the kitchen, "er what tab is that one dad?"

"The one for all of the coffee you've drunk whilst here," said Jackson, "you knew the rules like Tony did."

"But I thought the coffee was free," protested Gibbs. "How much do I owe you?"

"Well for the coffee on my reckoning we are already due about $4. Your son has paid for your breakfast so that has saved you a dollar and I'm reckoning the ingredients with the fresh fruit and the best butter for the pastry and all of the other bits and pieces for that pie comes to about $10."

"So I owe you four dollars?" asked Gibbs, "that's an expensive pie Dad."

"Well I may have added a little for the fuel to cook it and Joanne's time slaving away over it and I did add in a bunch of flowers for her from you to say sorry for destroying her first creation," admitted Jackson, "so really when you look at it, it's really quite reasonable and all you are paying me for is your coffee consumption."

Gibbs put his hand in his pocket and pulled out 4 dollars and handed it over to his father.

"Never mind Dad," Tony went to hug him, "you could always come back and work with me again to pay for the next lot of coffee."

Gibbs grinned and turning around picked Tony up and swung him around, "it's ok son, next time I'm only going to drink tea, it's cheaper. Now shall we all get out of here?"

"Yeah," said Tony, "I want to get home and show you all what I've bought."

"You've spent all of your money?" asked Gibbs.

"Yes but it was worth it," nodded Tony.

Once home Tony was sent to get changed and wash up for dinner. His little parcel sat wrapped up on the table.

"What did he buy?" asked Shannon curious as to the contents.

"It's a secret for now," smiled Jackson, "he spent his last penny on it and I think it means a lot for him to have bought it out of his very first wages."

"Just promise me it's not something that's going to explode," chuckled Joanne, "I don't think this old heart could take any more of that."

"No you'll both like it," said Jackson, "now quit snooping for inside information and let the boy announce it in his own way."

A few short minutes later Tony was washed up and downstairs. He picked up the little parcel and moved it to the side.

"Aren't you going to open it yet?" asked Joanne, "we're all excited to see what you've bought."

"I'm going to wait until we've eaten Grandma," said Tony in a matter of fact way.

"Well we had better get started then," she said pulling a sausage and onion casserole out of the oven, "Leroy will you get the potatoes please."

All were soon tucking in to the meal including Kelly who was sending mashed potatoes flying around the plastic tray attached to her high seat.

"I think I'd better go and get this little one cleaned up and ready for bed," said Shannon.

"Can we open my present first?" asked Tony, "it's for Kelly because I couldn't buy her anything myself for her christening."

"Tony you didn't need to sweetie," smiled Shannon, "but that is very lovely of you, are you going to let her pull the paper off or should I help her."

"I think you might need to help her mom," agreed Tony.

Shannon took the gift from him and carefully peeled back the wrapping to reveal the beautiful little wooden music box that had Kelly so fascinated at the shop.

"Oh Tony, this is wonderful," said Shannon, "she'll love this."

"I hope so," said Tony, "and I'm hoping it will help her fall to sleep at night so that you and Dad aren't as tired anymore. Do you think it will work?"

"I'm sure it will," said Gibbs, "son this is really kind of you especially since you must have spent everything you had left to buy it."

"It's lucky I got employee discount," said Tony, "but I have nothing left now, but it's worth it."

Kelly already had hold of the box and was gurgling happily. She put it on her tray and clapped her little hands together. Tony wound the mechanism up for her and she picked it up again and held it to her ear. She calmed instantly and within seconds all of those gathered around her watched as her little eyes started to flutter shut.

Shannon carefully scooped her up and carried her upstairs. Thirty minutes later she was back down with the rest of the family, Kelly having been washed, freshly diapered and put to bed.

Gibbs who was sat on the sofa with Tony snuggled into his side was amazed by the speed with which she had managed it all.

"Well son, you may just have found a magic box and for that gift your mom and I are also very grateful," he said squeezing the young boys shoulders, "so now that we have a little more time how about we watch one of your programs together before your bedtime?"

"Can we watch Magnum PI? asked Tony, "I want to save up next to buy a car like his."


	18. Chapter 18

"I miss them Dad," Tony murmured, "Mom and Kelly."

"Me too Son," Gibbs whispered back to the top of Tony's head of soft brown hair that was still tucked into his Dads shoulder, "me too."

"Mom would kill me for getting us in this mess and some fine example of a big brother I would have been for Kelly," commented Tony.

"Son, mom would have been more concerned about what had made you do it and Kelly, well she just worshipped you and would have forgiven you anything," answered Gibbs pushing Tony up so that he could look into his eyes to show him the sincerity of those words. "So listen I'm going to be all of them for you, I'll forgive you everything, I'll push on until we get to the bottom of this so that I can help you and I'll defend you to others and set you back on the straight and narrow."

"I think it's too late for all of that," sighed Tony, "Vance now knows about us, he's never going to let me stay on your team, maybe won't even let me stay in the agency, he'll probably send me back afloat if he does and I won't do that, I can't do that."

"Hey Tony, when have I given up on an impossible situation before?" asked Gibbs, "especially when it involves you."

"But that's just it Dad, you don't and now it's pulling us both down," said Tony dropping his head into his hands and rubbing at his temples furiously trying to relieve the headache building up in there.

"And what kind of father do you think that would make me if I just abandoned you in your hour of need?" asked Gibbs raising his hand to gently massage the back of his sons neck knowing as he did it was just one way of relaxing the stress in him that led to his headaches.

"I'm an adult now Dad, I ought to be able to deal with these situations on my own, I mean no one helped me steal the chocolate did they?" Tony replied.

"No I hope they didn't or else I'm going to have to have this conversation with them too," Gibbs tried to relieve the tension but failed miserably, instead he sighed and continued, "do you think Granddad would just leave me to it if I got myself in a whole heap of trouble?"

"Guess not," murmured Tony.

"No guessing about it, he'd be here in a heartbeat, delivering wisdom and a kick up the backside if one was needed. I've told you many times before, you're never too old for your Dad to step in and hold you to account before standing you back on your own two feet again. Do you know what Granddad would do to me if I abandoned you?"

"No," Tony responded.

Faking a shudder Gibbs grinned, "well let's say I wouldn't be sat down talking to you. So are you going to save me from that and at least try to talk to me about it and let me have a go at helping, cos if you don't and Granddad finds out I swear I'm spilling my guts and telling him you made me abandon you and I'll give him your location and send him your way."

"You wouldn't," Tony answered albeit not so sure that his father wasn't telling the truth.

"You willing to risk it all on that assumption Son?" Gibbs asked.

Tony weighed it up, he was better off with his Dad, as his Granddad wouldn't hesitate to punish him for his stupidity whilst making him talk about what was really going on, his Dad on the other hand at least gave him the benefit of realizing he was grown up.

"No Sir," he answered, "I don't want to risk it."

"Excellent, then we are getting somewhere," stated Gibbs, "I'll get you some water and tablets for that headache of yours first though."

Gibbs popped into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a couple of tablets from the cupboard above it. There was clearly something much deeper going on than normal and in some ways he wished his own Dad was there to help him sort this out. He'd ring him later when Tony was asleep but for now he had to get back in the room and sort this out with Tony.

On returning to the room he saw that Tony had pulled himself up into the corner of the sofa, his head resting on pillows and he was looking as pale as he had ever seen him. A classic sign that he had a migraine coming on.

"Hey Tony take these," he said, watching as his son propped himself up, "I'm going to ask Ducky to pop over and take a look at you."

"No Dad I don't need the doctor, it's just a migraine," Tony pleaded.

"Maybe but I want to get you checked out in any event so humour me," said Gibbs refusing to take no for an answer.

Tony was in no real position to argue back. Small black dots were floating before his eyes, his head felt as if it was about to explode and all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep. He took the tablets and water, downed them in one.

Gibbs left him on the sofa, placed a blanket over him and tucked it in around him. He then went back into the kitchen and called Ducky.

"Afternoon Jethro, are you alright?" asked the Doctor.

"Yeah Duck, it's not me it's Tony, do you think you could come over and check him out," asked Gibbs.

Ducky could hear the tiredness and weariness in his voice and cast his mind back a couple of nights to their meeting in the bar. "You er haven't torn him up too much have you?" he cautiously asked.

"No Duck, he's got a migraine but he looks worse than usual when he's like this, I'll fill you in a bit more when you're here," promised Gibbs.

"I'll be there in fifteen," answered Ducky, "I'll bring some tea."

By the time Ducky arrived Tony was flat out on the sofa and asleep. He went to the young man and did a quick check on him before going into the kitchen with Gibbs.

"He does look very pale Jethro, other than the migraine has he reported any other symptoms?" he asked.

"No Duck, you know what he's like, complains like mad over a splinter but anything serious and I just get an 'I'm fine' from him," complained Gibbs.

"Sounds like his father," smirked Ducky.

"Hey I don't complain over a splinter," argued Gibbs.

"No but you never confess your serious ailments," retorted Ducky not at all put off by the glare that Gibbs was fixing upon him.

"Can't you take some bloods and run a few tests?" asked Gibbs switching the conversation back to Tony before Ducky gave him a lecture on his own lifestyle habits.

"When he's awake Jethro I will ask him," said the Doctor.

"Aw hell Ducky can't we do it whilst he's asleep, you know what he's like with needles," argued Gibbs.

"Most certainly not Jethro, whilst most of my patients are unable to give their informed consent I should at least try to get the consent of those that are still living, or are you trying to get me struck off?"

"No, I guess that the fight over blood tests is just one I was hoping to avoid with him," sighed Gibbs. "Do you want a tea Duck?"

"Yes but I'll make it," said Ducky moving towards the kettle, "I'm hoping the pot I bought for you is still in it's usual spot."

"Yeah, it's there Duck," said Gibbs moving to look out of the door and into the living room to check on his son.

"Good, so how about you and me talk a bit first then," started the Doctor. "I take it there is some other reason why Tony isn't off with his friends this weekend."

"Oh yeah sure is," answered Gibbs.

"Are you able to share that with me?" asked Ducky, "It'll go no further."

"Ah Duck, Vance caught Tony stealing a chocolate bar out of the vending machine at work." Gibbs began.

"And that has led to all of this?" questioned Ducky momentarily stopping his tea making. "That seems rather extreme."

"It wasn't just the one bar Ducky, its been several a day ever since he returned from being agent afloat, we're talking hundreds of bars," continued Gibbs.

"Do we know why?" asked Ducky.

"No, I need to find out, but Vance has had him working like a slave as a part of the punishment, then he has finally found out about our relationship and Tony has let on about some of the things from his past, you know, before he came to us," said Gibbs.

"I should have seen he was suffering," Ducky condemned himself, "I'm a physician I should have seen something like this coming."

"Duck none of us saw it," Gibbs sighed.

"Yes but if I had realized at the time I could have stopped Vance deploying him afloat," said Ducky.

"What d'ya mean Duck?" Gibbs looked slightly bemused.

"Well he never did get any counseling or psychological evaluation after Jenny died," began the Doctor, "he should never have been sent off to be alone on that ship without that. I should have made sure he got the help, I mean I know he needed it, the lad downed three quarts of a bottle of my finest scotch down in autopsy, he doesn't know I know but I found the bottle on my desk with a glass and when I reviewed the CCTV for the time frame I found him. Never did have time to speak to him about it before he got sent away. He sent me a bottle back to replace it."

"Do you think it could all be connected to what's happening now?" asked Gibbs.

"I don't know Jethro, the only way to truly find out is for him to tell us," replied Ducky, "otherwise it's just mere speculation and conjecture. However it wouldn't be unusual for someone mourning a loss to form an addiction to something they think will help them get through it. The addiction masks the grieving process, then what they do to feed the addiction becomes justified over a period of time to allow them to cope."

"You think he became addicted to chocolate?" asked Gibbs somewhat disbelievingly.

"Well maybe not in the first instance but he might have turned to it as an alternative to get off of something else that was more damaging," suggested Ducky.

"How do I get him to tell me Duck?" asked Gibbs.

"Just like you have since he was eight years old Jethro," said Ducky, "he'll tell you, he trusts you."

At that moment the two older men heard movement in the living room as Tony tried to get to his feet and dart to the bathroom. Jethro was taken aback at the turn of speed Ducky suddenly showed in beating him to the bathroom where they found Tony heaving.

When they finally had him sorted and resettled back on the sofa, Ducky took the lead.

"Tony my dear boy," he began, "are you up to answering a few questions for me?"

"I'll try," said Tony sipping the glass of water that had been placed in his hands.

"Good," said Ducky, "so you can start by telling me how often you've been getting these migraines of late whilst I take your blood sugar level."

"Er Ducky, please no needles," Tony began.

"Tony it's just a small one on your thumb, you won't even feel it," Ducky assured him.

Ducky could feel Tony tense as he produced the machine but endeavoured to keep his mind focused on the other information he required. A multitude of other tests later, he finally let Tony settle again on the sofa.

"How is he Duck?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, as I told him, his blood sugar is way too high, his blood pressure is all over the place, he's not been looking after himself, he's not been eating properly or sleeping much but underneath all of that he needs to come to terms with what has happened and stop feeling guilty," announced Ducky.

"Did he say what he is feeling guilty about?" asked Gibbs hopeful that Ducky might have made a breakthrough.

"Oh but that it was that easy," smiled Ducky kindly, "I'm afraid not Jethro, that's going to take a lot more patience."


	19. Chapter 19

Gibbs watched Tony as he slept on the couch again. Ducky had gone leaving him with some stronger tablets for if they were really needed although no one looked forward to giving Tony stronger pain killers, it led to many strange adventures and interludes and they would not really be helpful right at the moment.

As he lay there curled up on the sofa, Gibbs couldn't help but be reminded of that little boy he had once found injured and had brought home and then had seen grow and battle through all manner of things. His son had never had it easy and despite all of the love that he had been given, the scars of his past still remained.

Another few hours passed and Gibbs only moved from Tony's side to refill the coffee cup. He maintained his silent vigil his steely gaze desperately trying to burrow into the thoughts of his son, to see beyond the masks he still wore and into the nightmares that still haunted him.

However Gibbs didn't know if these were old or new nightmares or even how to begin to get Tony to open up. When the kid was eight it was easier, he had Shannon there with him and even then they had made mistakes. There was always his Dad, and Joanne was always willing to help but this just felt as if it was something that he and Tony needed to sort out between the two of them.

Tony turned uneasily on the couch and the throw that had been covering him fell to the floor. As Gibbs stooped to pick it up and place it back over him, Tony began to stir.

"Sorry Tony, didn't mean to wake you," Gibbs started, "is the head feeling any better or do you need more tablets?"

"I could do with a drink of water Dad," a rather dry and croaky voice answered, " but I do feel a little better."

"Are you sure I can't get you anything else?" Gibbs checked before heading towards the kitchen.

"No I'm good," Tony replied, in actuality feeling anything but that.

Gibbs just turned and raised an eyebrow and instantly Tony knew that he was not going to be able to brush this one aside.

Returning from the kitchen moments later, Gibbs placed a glass of water down on the table in front of Tony alongside his own steaming cup of coffee, he had lost count of how many he'd had that day, and shrugged, he thought to himself.

"Are you ok Dad?" his son enquired picking up his own drink.

"Gibbs smiled softly back, "just thinking about my own coffee addiction and what Ducky would have to say about that if he wasn't so worried about you at the moment."

Tony's head sank, "I guess I'm not making that any easier for you am I."

"No, but that's my problem and not something you should feel guilty about," replied Gibbs, "I think you already have enough on that mind of yours don't you?"

Tony didn't answer.

Gibbs sighed and then sank down onto the couch next to Tony.

"It's alright you know to let people know you're feel guilty about something," he started, "at least when they know they can let you know how they view it and if necessary help you cope with it."

"What if you think they'll just tell you to get over it?" asked Tony, "you know as if it's no big deal."

"Has someone said that to you?" asked Gibbs.

"No, it's just that I fear they will," mumbled Tony.

"Well do you want to try it out on me first?" offered Gibbs, "I'm a fairly safe pair of hands."

Tony weighed up his options for the moment and didn't immediately reply. He knew his Dad was going to make him talk about it and he was right, he was the safest pair of hands, but over the months since he had been sent away to sea, on his own and suffering, he had played the conversation through in his head several times already and didn't like the outcome of any of them.

"It's about Director Shepherd," he eventually began, "I was in charge of her protection detail and she died on my watch whilst I was out with Ziva cruising around in a holiday shirt and a fancy car."

"I thought we had been over that Tony, you were given orders to stand down," responded Gibbs.

"See I knew you would just tell me to get over it," stormed Tony standing up as if to flee the room.

"Hey that's not what I said at all," argued Gibbs, "sit yourself back down and at least do me the courtesy of explaining."

"What, explain how Jenny shouldn't have just taken off, explain how she broke protocol, explain how she was on her own god-damned mission, explain how secretive she was being, I know all that," shouted Tony, "I've heard it a 100 times, but it doesn't get away from the fact that I shouldn't have left her to do that, I should have seen it, you would have done, you wouldn't have left her to it to go off haring around like you were Magnum PI, would you?"

There it was, thought Gibbs, Tony's guilt was as much about not living up to the standards he thought his Dad expected of him as much as it was about the death itself.

"Tony please sit down," he calmly asked.

"No Dad I can't," replied Tony frantically pacing back and forth in front of him.

"Why not?" asked Gibbs.

"Because this is the only thing that's stopping me running out of that front door at the moment," replied Tony referring to the pacing up and down. "Because if I sit down I'm frightened that these feelings inside of me will just take over and I'll explode."

"Ok then we'll do it your way," replied Gibbs, "as long as you promise me that we will talk and listen to each other."

He waited for Tony to agree and eventually after a few more lengths of the room had been paced he received the slightest of nods.

"Good, then will you let me explain my earlier comment?" he asked.

Again he got the slightest of nods.

"When I spoke about your orders, I was simply referring to the fact that you were told to stand down and then deliberately kept in the dark about what Jenny was up to, nothing more than stating a fact," started Gibbs, "in that sense I was stating that you were not responsible for her actions and no one would hold you responsible for them."

"But that's not right, 'cos I hold myself responsible and I'm pretty damn sure Vance does too," Tony's voice started to rise again.

"Tell me why you do," asked Gibbs, "I don't care about Vance for now."

"I don't know where to begin," Tony shook his head.

"Wherever you feel is right, we'll work the rest out from there," Gibbs replied.

"I was the senior agent Dad," started Tony, "I ought to have been able to stand up to the Director and tell her that I refused to break protocol."

"Well why didn't you?" asked Gibbs.

"I don't know, I mean it went through my mind and I did try to talk to her about it, but maybe I felt that she was involved in something like the whole Frog business and I had lost my appetite for that sort of stuff," tried Tony, "and maybe just a little part of me did want a few hours of just being me, having a little down time, showing off to Ziva."

"So which bit of that are you struggling with the most?" asked Gibbs.

"Don't think I can differentiate Dad," sighed Tony, momentarily stopping his pacing, "whichever it is I just know that you wouldn't have done what I did."

"What makes you think that?" he asked, "I'm far from being perfect Tony."

"But you always sort it all out, it ends up ok, I cock it up and the Director of the Agency gets murdered, that's never happened to you has it?"

"Well no it hasn't but that's hardly the point Tony," said Gibbs, "I've lost people directly under my command, my responsibility, I lost Kate," said Gibbs, a break in his voice as he spoke.

"Dad, she was murdered whilst protecting you, doing her job, Jenny was murdered whilst I was supposed to be protecting her, it's different," protested Tony.

"If anything it makes me feel more guilty, she died protecting me, Jenny died because she ran from your protection, she lied to you," argued Gibbs.

"There you go again," cried Tony, "I should just get over myself right, well I can't. Oh trust me I've tried, be like my Dad, my Boss, drink it away with bourbon, quite an attractive proposition until you find yourself on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic in force 9 gales, pissed and in danger of falling over board, easy if you can go and hide in a basement but I had no where to go, nowhere to hide. I had nothing Dad, nothing and I felt guilty and I hated myself so I dealt with it ok, change one habit for another, one addiction for another that isn't going to see me drowning in the ocean or in my own vomit. So I took a few chocolate bars, it was an accident at first, damn machine took my dollar and didn't give me my purchase, I hit it and then I thought you know what, it's just like everything else, takes what I've got and gives me nothing in return, not even when I need it, so I used it's weakness, exploited it, I knew it was wrong but it felt good. I was in control, I was the one doing the exploiting and no one was getting hurt."

Tony's anger built with every word, tears poured in furious streams down his face. Gibbs stood to try to take a hold of him, to calm him down, but Tony was not in the right mind to be tamed. His Dad wanted to shake that bottle and release the top; well here it was in all of its untamed glory. He exploded.

"Get off me," he shouted, pushing out with both hands and striking his Dad in the chest, sending the startled older man flying backwards and onto the sofa.

There was a resounding crack as the back of Gibbs head hit the wooden arm and then it went quiet.


	20. Chapter 20

Blood seeped from the gash in the back of Gibbs' head.

It took Tony a few seconds to realize what he had done but only a second more to rush over to his Dad who lay unconscious and bleeding in front of him.

"Dad please wake up, open your eyes," he pleaded as he pressed a cushion against the gash in a vain attempt to control the bleeding.

Gibbs did not respond.

Tony wrestled his phone out of his pocket and dialed.

"Ducky I need you to come quickly, it's Dad, I think I've killed him," he sobbed down the phone.

Ducky didn't even respond he simply grabbed his medical bag and jumped in the car, he was there within minutes and burst through the door to find Tony cradling his Dad and maintaining pressure to the wound.

"Has he been unconscious all of this time?" asked Ducky.

"N…no.. s..sir," stuttered Tony, "b..b..ut he opens his eyes and then makes this strange gargling noise and closes his eyes again."

"Right let me have a look," said Ducky taking over, "go wait by the door, I've called a paramedic team on the way over, you'll need to show them in."

Ducky attended to Gibbs whilst Tony waited on the porch for the approaching ambulance. Ducky couldn't help but see the boy pacing back and forth, see the tears still running down his face. He was disturbed in his observations by Gibbs voice murmuring below him.

"Duck, Tony," he murmured.

"Shh Jethro, he's at the door waiting for the ambulance, we need to get your head and neck checked out, please try not to move too much," asked Ducky.

"Look after him," asked Gibbs.

"What about we look after you first?" replied Ducky.

"Please Ducky," begged Gibbs straining against the pain in his head.

Seeing the sincerity in the request and the importance of it to his dear friend Ducky nodded his agreement, "ok, I'll keep an eye on the lad, now let me take care of you too."

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the paramedic team and soon Gibbs was on a gurney and being carried out to the ambulance. The most significant sign of how bad this was being the fact that he didn't protest or try to stop them taking him.

Ducky took hold of Tony's arm and guided him out to the car.

"Come on, get in the car I'll drive you to the hospital," stated Ducky.

"I can't," replied Tony, "he won't want me there."

"It was not a request Anthony," replied the Doctor, "it was an order from me on behalf of your Dad, now get in."

Tony complied, folding himself into the passenger side of Ducky's Morgan. He sat quietly in the car studying his hands that were now splattered with his Dads drying blood. Ducky climbed in alongside and started the engine, pulling off of the drive behind the ambulance and following it to Bethesda.

He turned to look at the young man in the seat next to him. "Do you want to talk Anthony?"

Tony shook his head, "Not really Sir, I just need to know if he is going to be alright."

"Ah my dear boy, your Dad has got more lives than a cat and is going to be fine, we just need to check him out properly," Ducky tried to reassure him. "Now how about you tell me what happened."

"I pushed him Ducky, I just hit out at him and sent him flying," whispered Tony, "he just tried to hold me and I struck him. I thought I'd killed him."

"Well you didn't and when we get to the hospital and they ask what happened you leave it to me ok," advised Ducky.

Tony didn't answer.

"Anthony, I need you to acknowledge what I just said," reiterated the Doctor, "your Dad told me to look after you and I'm telling you now to let me do the talking, do you understand?"

"Yes Sir, " the weak and somewhat disbelieving answer.

"Good, now I need to go and talk to the doctors," continued Ducky as he pulled into the parking bay, "go wait in the family room, I'll come get you as soon as possible."

Tony simply nodded and took off in the direction of the waiting area.

Ducky didn't stop to check he had gone there, instead heading off after the gurney carrying Gibbs into the emergency area where medics were already waiting to carry out head and neck scans and clean and close the wound.

Tony paced the small waiting area, the minutes that passed felt like hours. The blood on his hands now itching and starting to flake off of him. The last time he had been waiting like this; the last time he had been covered in blood like this was after he and Ziva had found Jenny's body, when he was waiting for his Dad, when Vance had got there first, just before he had been sent away to sea.

A cold shiver passed down his spine, a cold sweat forming on there too. He felt his neck muscles tense. He felt the pain creeping into his temples, black dots started to form before his eyes. He sank into the thin uncomfortable couch that was faded and worn and pinched the bridge of his nose.

So he had destroyed his career this week, well actually months ago but he'd hung around to finish the icing on the top of it and make sure he would never work in a government agency again, Vance would see to that, by writing him up properly for theft in the work place. He'd strained the relationship with his Dad beyond anything that he thought would survive. He had dragged his Dad's career down with his and then to finish that one off properly he'd nearly killed his Dad when all the guy was trying to do was help him.

Ducky was bound to have a go at him. About how his poor diet led to poor health and that in turn led to mood swings and doing stuff like injuring the best thing that had ever walked into his shambolic life.

His thoughts were suddenly distracted by the buzz of the cell phone in his pocket. Fishing it out he squinted at the screen. The caller ID floated and blurred in front of his eyes. He switched it off and shoved it back in his pocket and decided to go in search of water and tablets before the migraine truly took hold again.

Presenting himself at a nurses station he asked for help and was directed to a small office where he was asked to wait whilst the nurse fetched medication and a doctor. The phone in his pocket buzzed a couple more times but he ignored it and waited for salvation.

A while later he found himself directed to a small families room that had a pull out cot in it where he was told he could sleep a while whilst waiting for news of his father. He downed the tablets and drifted off to sleep again.

He awoke later to the gentle shaking of his shoulder from Ducky. The migraine was clearing but it took him a few seconds to recall where he was and why he was there.

"Is Dad ok?" the first words out of his mouth as he scrambled into a seating position.

"Yes they kept him in overnight, to check on his concussion," said Ducky, "predominantly as a precaution due to the damage he received in the Pin Pin Pula explosion."

"Hang on you said they kept him in overnight?" asked Tony somewhat confused.

"Yes that's right," answered Ducky.

"So what time is it now?" questioned Tony.

"It's 0800," the response came.

"I've been asleep overnight?" questioned Tony but then not waiting for an answer, " I should have been at his bedside, why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"Because Anthony he was sleeping, you needed sleep and I already had it all covered," commented the Doctor.

"By who?" asked Tony noting that the elderly Doctor looked too refreshed for having spent a whole night on Gibbs watch.

"Well Timothy took the first shift and then Ziva, Jimmy is in there now with him," said Ducky.

"How'd they know he was here?" asked Tony.

"Because I asked them to track the pair of you down," came a gravelly elderly voice from the doorway. "If you and your Daddy didn't keep scaring me by refusing to answer your phones when you both do a dangerous job, then I wouldn't have to call on Tim to track you down all the time."

Tony looked up towards the door, and there stood with Tim and Ziva was his Granddad. He froze, then looked at the missed call log on his phone, several calls there from Jackson's number.

"Well are you too big to give your old Granddad a hug or are you gonna make me come get you?" asked Jackson.

Tony practically ran into his Granddads embrace whilst Ducky ushered the others out of the room to give them some personal space and privacy.

"Granddad I've screwed up big time," he sobbed into the elderly mans shoulder.

"I've heard," said Jackson, "Ducky filled me in."

"And you still want to hug me?" asked Tony.

"I think it's mandatory for a Granddaddy who loves his only Grandson to hug him when he sees him despite his screws up," smiled Jackson stroking the back of Tony's head, "but don't think for a minute that you and I aren't going to have a good old chat about this young man."

He pushed Tonys' head back and up to take a look at the face before him, so young but bearing so many stresses.

"But first I need to know how you are feeling, can't have you and your Dad ill can we," said Jackson.

"I'm fine Granddad," Tony attempted a weak smile that wasn't convincing anyone.

"Well looks like I'm going to have to be the judge of that," nodded Jackson. "Now get yourself straightened up and lets go and check on your Dad.

He felt Tony freeze.

"It's ok you know," urged Jackson, "he told us to come and fetch you."

"He's awake?" asked Tony.

"Since when did you know your Dad to sleep beyond 0600?" asked Jackson, "he's up and trying to convince those pretty nurses in there that coffee is a perfect substitute for medicine and breakfast. I swear that boy never learns."


	21. Chapter 21

Jackson guided Tony from the room he'd slept in to where his Dad was arguing with Ducky.

"I've told you Jethro, you need to stay in for another 24 hours observations," argued Ducky, "and if you don't stop trying to get out of that bed I'll have Timothy handcuff you too it."

"But I need to get up and sort some things out Doctor Mallard," protested Gibbs not caring that the argument was starting to draw several stares from others passing by the room and rather nervous looks from Jimmy, Ziva and Tim.

"You're going to do no such thing Leroy," his father cut in, entering the room, "and if you think that ice cold stare is going to frighten these good people into letting you out of here quicker then you're wrong son, you haven't got half as much practice at is as I have."

"Dad, is Tony with you?" asked Gibbs immediately forgetting the argument he'd been having with Ducky.

Jackson stepped to one side to allow Tony access to the room.

"Hi Dad," murmured Tony at a level which was almost inaudible to any ears but his dads.

"Tony," his Dad acknowledged and then turned to the others, "why don't you guys go and get a drink and see if you can sneak a coffee back in here for me."

"I know a perfect little tea shop near here," announced Ducky, "it will be much better for you." Then not waiting for an answer, he left the room indicating for the others to follow him.

As the door closed behind them Gibbs beckoned for Tony to get closer to him.

Tony with his head down slowly approached the bed.

"Hey let me take a look at you," said Gibbs. "Are you alright?"

"Dad I'm so sorry," began Tony, "I never meant to hurt you like that, not at all."

"I've had worse and survived it Tony," answered Gibbs.

"Dad I could have killed you, I don't know what I would have done without you," Tony tried again.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Tony," said Gibbs, "we have too much to sort out first don't we?"

"Yes Sir," answered Tony knowing this was never going to just go away.

"Have you told your Granddad about everything that's happened?" inquired Gibbs.

"No Sir," answered Tony. "I've not had time to do that yet."

"But we're going to find time to discuss it," interjected Jackson, "we're going to find out just what is going on and then we are going to find a way to fix it, but I need you to be able to let me worry about it for a while and not worry about you trying to escape this hospital," he fixed Leroy with a no nonsense stare.

"Dad, I…" began Gibbs.

"Did that sound as if I was giving you a choice?" asked Jackson peering over his glasses at his son, "Cos if it did Leroy I will have another go at re-wording it."

"No Dad," sighed Gibbs, "I get it."

"Good, then Tony and I will go home and bring you some things back in a while, it will give him and me a time to talk, so behave yourself in the meantime or else it will be me and you having a conversation."

With that Jackson took a step forward tucked the blankets back around Gibbs and kissed his head.

When Tony and Jackson arrived at the family home it didn't feel right being in there without Gibbs. On top of all of that the evidence of the injury, the detritus left behind by the paramedic crew and Ducky, the blood stained pillow; all littered the room as if to set it up as the perfect crime scene.

Tony stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the lounge. He felt the warm comforting hand of his Granddad land on his shoulder and squeeze it gently.

"What say I get this cleared up whilst you go and cook us something to eat for lunch," suggested Jackson, "and that doesn't mean ordering pizza."

"Granddad I should clean it up," said Tony, "after all its my fault, my mess, Dad's even got a rule about it."

"Your Dad's not here at the moment Tony and we're working on my rules for the moment," answered Jackson, "now are you going to go and cook us something, I'll come and help you in a moment."

"I'm not really hungry," Tony argued back, "I could just get you a sandwich or something."

"No Tony, I want to eat with you and I want something that involves vegetables and is warm," answered Jackson, "now go on and conjure something up."

Tony knew that there was no arguing to be had and truth be told he was tired of fighting, of arguing, of hurting people, of hurting himself. He moved through to the kitchen and started raiding the fridge for anything that might be passable as a healthy meal, his Dad only tended to get lots of vegetables in when he was expecting company and the events of this weekend had been anything but expected. He fished out some onions and peppers along with a courgette and a few tomatoes and set about chopping them up. Grating the remains of a block of cheese and crushing some garlic too, he started rummaging through the cupboards to find some pasta.

Jackson joined him a short while later, the room cleared for now, but a trip to the store to find stain remover to get rid of the blood was going to be required.

"So what are you cooking up for us Tony?" Jackson enquired.

"Vegetable pasta bake," answered the younger man, "Dad hadn't had chance to do any shopping yet, it was all I could find."

"Sounds as if it will be tasty and healthy," commented Jackson, "how long until it will be ready?"

"About 40 minutes," answered Tony, "I'll clean up some of the pans while we wait."

"Do you want a hand?" asked Jackson.

Tony shrugged, "I don't know Sir, I mean, I know we need to talk and all that, and I want to tell you and try to fix this but I also feel like I just want to be on my own and run and hide."

"I understand that Son but do you remember what your Dad gave you when you were young and wanted to run and hide?"

Tony's hand went instinctively to the key that still hung on the cord around his neck next to his heart. "Yeah I remember," he replied.

"Then you know that the only place you should be running to is right here," said Jackson, "seems to me that you have forgotten that recently."

"Perhaps," muttered Tony, "but its not like I could get back here when I was afloat."

"I know that Tony but it also stands for the fact that you can always call home and ask for help," said Jackson, "you could have called and written more than you did. You seemed to lock yourself away from us. Why?"

"It felt like I'd been abandoned, we'd all been ripped apart and I was alone," Tony continued to scrub vigourously at a chopping board, so much so that Jackson thought he was in danger of washing it away.

"Tony when are you going to work out that we aren't ever going to leave you all alone. Distance is one thing but phone calls and letters they shorten that distance and the time apart and if you had needed to leave NCIS to get back to us we would have helped you, your Dad and me," responded Jackson, "we love you to much to lose you, to see you unhappy, but you have to tell us because we don't always see it until its too late."

"But Granddad, I'm an adult now, I can't keep running to you guys with all of my problems and Dad was going through enough grief of his own loosing Jenny. I know he still loved her and he would never have let her take off by herself like I did," said Tony.

"Oh really, you know that do you?" asked Jackson.

"Sure, it's not the way he operates," replied Tony.

"Then you and he need to sit down and speak about how he felt when he let her go off after Le Grenouille by herself and then Jeanne tried to blame you for the murder, or perhaps about what happened in France years ago when he and Dr Mallard had to escape as fugitives," suggested Jackson.

"She helped them escape France," retorted Tony.

"Yes I know but have you ever sat down and asked him why he needed to escape?" asked Jackson.

"Well no I thought he would tell me if it was anything important," Tony had given up totally on the washing now and dried his hands on a towel nearby. "I guess I just assumed it was Jenny to the rescue rather than her having caused the need for them to be rescued."

"Your Dad loved Jenny but he knew how she operated and he got hurt every time she went off and did something like that and he felt guilty he couldn't stop her and he felt angry when it started to pull you in too," Jackson paused and watch it all sink in slowly, "he was distraught when he watched it pull you in to the very danger he needed to protect you from, he felt guilty he had not been there to stop you getting involved in the whole Frog case in the start and he was just starting to get over that when Jeanne accused you of the murder and then his guilt at letting Jenny do her own thing and not stopping it started all over again."

"But he didn't get himself into trouble with drink or with theft did he?" retorted Tony, anger at his own actions beginning to return to the surface once again.

"Do you know how much bourbon he got through?" asked Jackson, "do you know how many pieces of his boat he smashed up in anger late at night in rage and anger at himself that he didn't protect you better?"

"It's not the same Granddad," Tony responded even louder his temper resurfacing, "he didn't destroy his family and his career, he didn't kill anyone."

"You didn't kill anyone either, from what I heard Jenny was shot by the bad guys not you," argued Jackson, "guys who she chose to deliberately go after, alone."

"I should have been there," yelled Tony, "instead I went off having a good time, if I'd started to look for her earlier I'd have been there."

"Yeah and you might both have been shot and Ziva too," argued Jackson.

"But that was my job," screamed Tony, "that's what I signed up for."

"What to die?" retorted Jackson.

"If needs be, to put my life on the line, to protect and serve," yelled Tony, "hell I even think that's in the fucking manual."

Jackson had never tolerated swearing and cussing and long ago had taken Tony to task on it and now was going to be no different. He picked up the still damp chopping board from the side and delivered three swift swats with it to Tony's backside.

Tony gasped more in shock than in pain, albeit did deliver a nasty sting to his seat. "What the fuck…"

He never got to finish that sentence before another three swats were delivered.

"When do you ever get away with using language like that around me young man?" asked Jackson as he delivered the last swat.

Tony wanted to argue back that he was too old for this and how dare his Granddad smack him like a child but he knew better than to argue with him, he knew better than to swear in the first place and those six fairly hefty swats had broken the back of his anger at himself.

Delivering one further hefty swat across the top of his thighs, Jackson said, "I asked you a question young man I expect an answer."

"Never Sir," replied Tony reaching around to rub the sting out of his backside. Jackson could hear from the tone of his voice that the anger levels had at least dropped a little.

"Good then lets try to talk like two civilized men shall we?" he asked.

Sadly as anger subsided sarcasm crept in and Tony responded, "uh that's kind of hard to believe when you're wielding a chopping board like a club and treating me like a kid."

As he said it Tony knew he had gone too far and instantly regretted it when his Granddad delivered another three blistering swats to his rear end.

"Next comment out of your mouth like that and you lose the jeans," said Jackson seeing a solitary tear run from Tony's eye.

"I'm sorry," Tony almost whispered.

Reaching up to wipe the tear away from his Grandsons face Jackson apologized too, "and I'm sorry that I felt that I had to do that but further anger and sarcasm aren't going to help you and we aren't going to get anywhere if we fall out. I won't let you push me and your Dad away."

Tony simply nodded.

"Good then we have a bit of time before the oven timer goes off so why don't you tell me about being on that ship and the drinking?"

Tony started to explain how the drinking had started the night he had got back to Washington after that fateful trip to California, how the night before he had flown out to get on the ship he'd downed a bottle of scotch by himself, how on board he'd been desperate to find more alcohol to take the pain away and had uncovered an illegal card school on board and rather than bust the crew for it had joined them because of their stash of illegal booze which he then had access to.

His granddad froze in fear when Tony described how one night when returning from the card game he had nearly fallen overboard. How he had then sobered up but needed another crutch to cling to, how he had grabbed out at comfort food in the form of chocolate and how when he returned home and had put up with all of the comments from Vance about how wonderful McGee was and how people like Tony were out dated he had hot out at the vending machine and discovered it's secret.

They were momentarily interrupted by the oven timer and Tony took the bake out of it and served it up for him and his Granddad, his appetite seeming to have resurfaced just a little.

"Shall we go sit in the room?" asked Tony hoping to be able to cushion his bottom which still felt a little sore.

"No just here on these nice hard dining room chairs will be alright and more civilized," responded Jackson knowing exactly what Tony was trying to avoid.

As the two sat and ate they continued to talk and Tony could feel a burden lifting from him which each line. Why had he not done this sooner?

By the end of the meal, Jackson sat back and studied his grandson who was tucking into a second large helping of the dinner. "So do we agree that in reality there are only some of those things that you should have felt any guilt about?"

Swallowing a mouthful of pasta, Tony nodded and raised his eyes to look at Jackson, "yes Sir."

"And what are they Tony?" he asked.

"I should have come to Dad and you sooner about all of this, I should never have stolen the chocolate, I know better than to steal whatever the start of it or the feelings of justification, and in no circumstances should I ever strike out at my Dad or anyone else when I'm acting in anger."

"Good lad, now you are going to tell your Dad all of this and take whatever punishment he thinks fitting, you hear?" he checked.

"Yes Sir," sighed Tony, "do you think he can forgive me?"

"I think he already has," answered Jackson, "you've just not yet given him the chance to tell you that."

Having finished the tidy up, and having packed some clean clothes for his Dad, Tony and Jackson made their way back to the hospital.

Ducky smiled at the two of them as they entered the room.

"I don't know what you said to him Jackson but he has been the perfect patient and stayed away from the coffee," Ducky commented with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his face especially when he saw the scowl Gibbs gave him. "I'll leave you to it and go get something to eat."

"Thanks Donald," Jackson smiled, "for everything."

With that Jackson pulled up the one comfortable seat in the room and sat down aside his son.

"How's the head feeling?" he asked.

"Would be better if I had a coffee," pouted Gibbs.

"Leroy look at yourself," chuckled his father, "you look like a spoilt little kid, a day or two without coffee won't kill you."

"I'm not gonna win this argument am I?" asked Gibbs.

"No Son, you're not so give up on it now," nodded Jackson.

Gibbs turned towards Tony who was still stood up by the foot of the bed.

"Are you alright Tony?" he asked searching his face for signs of migraine or illness.

"Yes Dad," he replied, "Granddad and I talked."

"Well why don't you grab a seat from over there and sit yourself down and tell me how that went?"

Tony turned to stare at the hard plastic seats stacked three high in the corner of the room.

"So the talk you and Granddad had was not just a verbal one?" said Gibbs fixing a look on his son.

"No Sir, I made the mistake of swearing at him when he was in the vicinity of a chopping board," answered Tony.

"Oh I see," grinned Gibbs, "you too learnt that you are never too old for a swat across the rear and that Granddad is a master chef and adept at using all of the tools of the trade."

"Something like that," replied Tony sharing that moment of mutual understanding with his Dad.


	22. Chapter 22

Gibbs turned to his Dad, "Do you think Tony and I can talk in private Dad?" he asked.

"Sure Son, I'll go do some shopping, you have next to nothing in at home," he said getting up from his chair. "Call me if you need me."

Tony smiled as his Grandfather left and turned to his Dad, "it's probably a good job he didn't look inside my fridge."

Gibbs pulled his son over to him, "why don't you sit somewhere a bit more comfortable?"

"Thanks," grimaced Tony.

"So what did the two of you talk about?" asked Gibbs.

"The basics," said Tony looking down and examining his shoes, "where I went wrong, what else I could have done, guessing you know the drill."

"Yeah something like that but that's not the part I'm interested in Tony," explained Gibbs, "I know you know you should have come to me with your problems. I also know that you know stealing is wrong and it's not really your thing, I also know how difficult it is to hold a temper in when you just feel angry at the world and I can understand you didn't mean to hurt me and you must be feeling hellishly guilty about it. Am I close?"

"Almost word perfect Dad," Tony momentarily looked up from his shoes.

"So in reality you only told Granddad the easy parts the bits that you thought would get this over sooner rather than later, in reality still avoiding the elephant in the room and moving onto the punishment in some vain attempt to appease at least some of the guilt but avoid having to confront the source of the problem in the first place?" questioned Gibbs.

"Is it that obvious?" asked Tony.

"Well to me it is but then you're my Son and I see you every day," said Gibbs, "Granddad doesn't see us that often now and still sees the little boy rather than the man you are. Add to that he is more used to dealing with the younger me and you and not the adult you."

"I know he had a go at me about that too, the not seeing us enough and all that, think we'd both better ring him more," Tony tried a small grin but knew that it really wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"Probably should but that's easy to fix," said Gibbs, "but I'm not sure how to even start fixing everything else or where to begin."

"You don't?" asked Tony, "then why did you want me to talk to you about it all?"

"I was looking for inspiration, a clue, something anything to lead me to an answer for you," confessed Gibbs, "what you went through Tony, well its complex, how you tried to deal with it, well that's individual to you and my experiences aren't necessarily the same as yours, my motivations aren't the same as yours and for me to pre-suppose I know the way to fix it, well that's just arrogant."

"Have you been watching Dr Phil whilst you've been in here?" asked Tony looking around for a TV and the remote.

"Cheeky young…"Gibbs laughed as he gently tapped Tony at the back of the head. "No I haven't but I'm not totally averse to the idea of turning to the professionals you know."

"What you think I need to see a shrink?" asked Tony.

"Perhaps," said Gibbs, "yeah perhaps we both should."

"Ha, I thought you were joking and now I know you are, there's no way you are going to speak to anyone," proclaimed Tony.

"Well not just anyone, but perhaps someone I think I can trust," said Gibbs not giving in to Tony's proclamation, "thought we could call up Dr Cranston, see if she can spare us a bit of time."

"You are being serious aren't you?" asked Tony, "look I don't know if I can open up to a random stranger."

"You know Rachel though," said Gibbs, "I think we can trust her."

Tony stood and began to pace again, his hand went to the bridge of his nose, his head began to race. God he needed a drink, or something, anything to stop this panic this stress this headache.

"Hey Tony shall I call the nurse to get you something?" asked Gibbs seeing the tell-tale signs of the migraine coming on.

"Dad I don't want to have to fall asleep for hours again," protested Tony, "I just need a moment please."

"Ok but at least have a drink of water," agreed Gibbs pouring a fresh cup from the jug on the side and holding it out to Tony.

"Thanks Dad," said Tony accepting the drink, "don't suppose you have something a little stronger?"

Gibbs fixed a stare on him.

"Ok so that was a poor joke in the circumstances right?" said Tony.

"Ya think?" stated Gibbs.

"Dad what am I going to do about Vance? asked Tony.

"You need to talk to him, make him listen, perhaps give him the full copy of your curriculum vitae," suggested Gibbs, "if they let me out of here I'll come with you."

"That didn't go so well last time Dad," sighed Tony. "Perhaps I should just resign and speak to Fornell about joining the FBI."

"You want to work with Tobias?" asked Gibbs, "You think I'm a bastard to work with, you've not seen anything yet."

"No Dad I don't want to work with him but I do want to work and I don't want Vance sending me back to sea or off to some dead beat team in the middle of nowhere."

"So what are you going to say?" asked Gibbs.

"I don't know, I can't figure the guy out and I don't know what he wants," said Tony.

"Well perhaps you should just focus on what you want and why you want it," suggested Gibbs.

"And that's half the problem Dad, I don't know, I thought I wanted to be like you, but clearly I haven't got it in me not to be used and manipulated by my bosses, I haven't got the balls to stand up to someone when they give me an order that is clearly wrong, I haven't got the smarts to think of another way around the order and to still do my job and follow my instincts," he said.

"You really believe all that crap Tony?" asked Gibbs.

"Do you think I would let you on my team as my second in command if you weren't all that and more?" he argued.

"But you're my Dad perhaps its some sort of unconscious bias," retorted Tony.

"Do you think I have ever shown you any favouritism?" asked Gibbs astounded, "If anything I've been harder on you than all of the rest."

"But you've put up with all my pranks and jokes when others wouldn't," argued Tony.

"Yeah but I've never let them go too far and the few that have, well have I let you off scot free?"

"Well no I guess not but others wouldn't have put up with it," replied Tony.

"That's true but then again others teams wouldn't have had to find ways to put up with me as their boss," grinned Gibbs. "I know what you do and why you do it, I have watched you protect Tim and the others for years."

"You know?" asked Tony.

"More than you would think but here's the rub Tony, the one thing I need to know I don't, I don't know how to easily fix this situation, but I do know we need help and we may well hit some rocks on the way, but we have to do something."

At that moment the door swung open and a nurse can through closely followed by Ducky.

"I'm sorry Jethro are we disturbing you, Nurse Benedict here just needs to run some obs and I was hoping to chat but it can wait, well my part at least," said Ducky.

"Ah Duck, it's ok, but Tony and I do need to talk some more," responded Gibbs

"Then I'll go and come back later," he smiled, "and Tony I have the results of some of those tests I ran on you which I need to go through with you soon."

"It's ok Ducky you can tell me now if you like, Dad will need to know and its best he hears it form you," said Tony.

"Well if you are sure," said Ducky pulling a folder out of his briefcase, "I've been most concerned about your migraines, it's not unusual to get them but yours were starting to happen with startling regularity so I double checked your blood-works and other tests and I have to say that your diet with a high amount of sugar in it is making you borderline diabetic, your stress levels are also high and it's sending your blood pressure all over the place and between these stresses and the amount of sugar in your diet you are totally screwing up your system, but it is reversible at this stage."

"How?" asked Tony.

"Well to start with diet," said Ducky, "I know I do go on about it like a broken record but it is so very important to all of your bodies systems."

"Ok I can do that, no pizza, no cakes, no chocolate no soda," said Tony.

"You don't have to cut it all out Tony, just moderate it and make sure there is some healthy stuff in there too, I can ask Jimmy to draw you up a suggested menu if you'd like, he's pretty good at regulating his diet because of his diabetes," suggested Ducky.

"What about the blood pressure Duck?" asked Gibbs.

"Well we could regulate it with pills but I'd like to try to find out a way of conquering it in other ways," said Ducky. "I think you need to get some help Tony, find out what's causing the stress."

"Dad suggested we should go see a shrink," said Tony.

"Well I am pleased that he and I are on the same page," said Ducky, "I have several colleagues who are excellent Psychiatrists."

"We thought we could call Dr Cranston," said Tony.

"Excellent choice," smiled Ducky, "if you need any assistance from me you will ask though won't you."

"Yes Ducky, I promise," smiled Tony.

"Good then I will leave you and our patient here to talk some more, I'll leave you a prescription for some tablets to take if you feel those migraines coming on in the meantime, please make sure that you collect this one," added Ducky.

"Yes Sir," smiled Tony, "but you might have to deal with the consequences if they send me loopy like some of those others did."

"It's a deal young Anthony," grinned Ducky, "I'll put all state troopers on alert." With that he bid farewells to both men and left again.

"Well that determines one thing," Gibbs spoke breaking the silence that followed the departure of the Doctor.

"What's that?" asked Tony.

"If you are going to be staying with me for a while I'm going to have to learn how to cook a little better," said Gibbs.

"Are you grounding me?" asked Tony.

"No, I'm not going to punish you at all," answered Gibbs. "Just want to look after you."

"Why aren't you punishing me?" asked Tony, "I mean I have messed up so much."

"Yeah, you have but you have also punished yourself far more than I would ever have done, and now is about going forward not just looking back," answered Gibbs.

"But Granddad thinks that I am coming here to tell you everything and we are going to discuss how I atone for it," said Tony, "he'll think I haven't told you everything."

"Well you haven't, not yet, but you are my Son and you and I ultimately chose how we are going to handle this thing," replied Gibbs, "look I will handle Granddad, he will just want you to get better and to be happy."

"Dad I am sorry for everything you know."

"I know you are Son and I'm sorry I can't fix this straight away, but we will sort it out," promised Gibbs.

"I'm not sure I deserve your help and understanding," said Tony.

"Then I will also have to work harder to prove it to you then," smiled Gibbs reaching out to grab Tony's arm and pull him over to him. "Come here and sit yourself down, lets have a go at working out what to say to Vance."


	23. Chapter 23

"You realize I'm going to have to edit out some of the more descriptive language don't you Dad?" asked Tony looking down at the list of bullet points he and his Dad had made with regard to the meeting with Vance.

"I thought it added a little something," laughed Gibbs and then pretended to look hurt.

"Would you let me get away with saying some of those things to you?" Tony asked taking on his Dads stare and fixing it on the master of glares laid in the bed at the side of him.

"Well no, but you asked me what I would say to him and I think I would have the flare to carry it off," Gibbs joked back not at all bothered by his Sons attempt to out glare him.

"And then we wonder where I go wrong," joked Tony grinning back at his Dad, unable to hold the glare for a second longer.

"Are you certain you want to handle it alone?" asked Gibbs. "We could ask Ducky to sign you off sick for a few days until the migraines start to subside a little more."

"No Dad I think I have to do it alone or else he's going to think that I'm clutching onto your coat tails and not ever look at me as an individual," answered Tony. "Added to which I think we could do without some of your, lets say, more proactive suggestions about what he should do with his job."

Gibbs reach out his hand and took a hold of the one Tony had been using to write all his notes down on, "I'm proud of you Tony and I love you, remember that."

"Thanks Dad," muttered Tony, "guess I don't feel particularly proud of myself at the minute though."

"Hey we talked about this, you might have done some pretty stupid things, but there is a reason behind them that we are going to sort out and none of them reflect the man you really are," said Gibbs moving his hand from Tony's and instead using it to tip Tony's head up so that they had eye-contact.

"I'll try to remember that Dad," Tony tried to raise a smile, "look I'm getting a bit tired, can we put the pens down for a few minutes and maybe just chill and watch some TV together before we get descended upon by the rest of them?"

"Sure, there's a game on one of the channels I was going to watch," answered Gibbs, "will that do or are you after more action and adventure."

"The game would be just fine Dad," smiled Tony settling back into his chair and propping his feet up on the bed.

An hour later and the two were so engrossed in the game that they had become unaware that they were shouting at the screen and hadn't noticed Jackson arrive.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join in?" he asked.

"Oh hi Dad, give us a few minutes, if the Patriots score in the next five minutes your Grandson owes his Dad $50 for supporting the wrong team," laughed Gibbs.

"Come on Dad, you must agree that shouldn't have been a penalty back there and in reality my team ought to be winning and you handing me the $50," complained Tony.

"Do either of you actually support these teams?" asked Jackson looking at the screen.

"No just wanted to teach my Son that he is not the worlds expert on football statistics and gambling," laughed Gibbs just as Tony's chosen team made a phenomenal intercept and charged down the field to bring the game home for them.

"Yes!" whooped Tony dancing around the room, "looks like I'm the master after all."

Gibbs fished out his wallet and handed over the $50. "Damn it, every damn time, how does he do it?" He asked generally.

Jackson chuckled. "Glad to see the two of you are good, did you both talk?"

"Yeah we talked," nodded Gibbs still busy watching Tony congratulating himself on the win and informing the nurses who had also kept an eye on the game what the results were.

"You worked out how he's going to fix it?" asked Jackson.

"Not completely, it's more complex than you realize Dad," answered Gibbs, "gonna need help from a few professionals."

"So you haven't punished him?" asked Jackson, "I thought he needed to feel as if he had paid the price and done his time for all of this."

"No Dad, he's already been punishing himself too much over stuff that isn't his fault, I'm not going to make it worse, he just needs a bit of help," explained Gibbs.

"If you think that's best," shrugged Jackson, not entirely agreeing with his Son.

"Dad I do, he's my Son and I know him better than he sometimes knows himself and I don't want you trying to punish him either."

"Hey I only smacked him because of the language, nothing to do with the rest," replied Jackson, "maybe I'm too old fashioned for this DC life you are both now leading."

"Look Dad I'm sorry, I wouldn't have tolerated that behaviour either but the rest, well it needs a different approach, please trust me," asked Gibbs.

"I do Leroy, but it won't stop me worrying about the pair of you," he answered, "just wanted to help."

"I know Dad and you can just by being there for me to talk to, you are going to stay a while aren't you?" asked Gibbs.

"If you want me around Leroy, sure," said Jackson still a little subdued.

"Dad, I would love you to live a little closer and be around more often," admitted Gibbs.

"So is that why I don't hear from you and Tony a lot then?" asked Jackson.

"No Dad, it's just that we are both really busy, but if your retired you could move closer and spend more time with us, don't you want to rest your feet up for a while?"

"Retire?" asked Jackson, "Son I have worked everyday of my life since I was 15 years old and a fair amount of it before then, I wouldn't know what to do if I wasn't keeping busy, a bit like you really, always working on a case, or a boat or the like, when's the last time you took a holiday?"

"Probably when I went to visit Mike in Mexico," admitted Gibbs.

"Hey that wasn't a holiday that was you recuperating and from what Mike told me he couldn't stop you fixing roofs or building hot tubs and boats," commented Jackson.

"It was therapeutic and someone had to sort Mike out," argued Gibbs, "anyway when did this conversation turn into lets sort my life out?"

That question never got answered as Tony re-entered the room, clasping even more cash than before.

"Where'd you get that?" asked Gibbs.

"I had a few side bets going on with the porters on the game," answered Tony.

"How much extra did you make?" asked Gibbs.

"Another $50," answered Tony.

"Good you can reimburse Granddad for the shopping he's done then seeing as you have wiped me out too," grinned Gibbs as he watched Tony's jaw drop and his father hold out his hand for the cash.

Jackson chuckled, "I bought you some nice vegetables with it."

Tony dropped the money into his Granddads hand and sighed, "well it was nice when I had it, they had better be some pretty damn awesome vegetables though."

Gibbs and Jack both laughed and pulled him into a hug.

Finally breaking free from them and with a smile on his face Tony announced that he was heading home to work on the notes and what he was going to say to Vance, adding that he would start to make something for the evening meal too.

"When you say home, you mean our home right?" asked Gibbs, "Not your apartment?"

"Yes Boss, that's where all the food is anyway," grinned Tony.

"Make sure you leave something for Granddad and me. I'll be home tomorrow and Granddad will be staying with us for a while," said Gibbs. "Ring me if you need to talk and make sure you call me as soon as you have finished speaking to Vance."

"I will," promised Tony and gave his Dad a final hug before leaving the older two generations to sit and talk and await the rest of the team turning up to visit.

As Tony re-entered the old family home he made his way upstairs to his old room and as if out of habit, as the young school boy had once done, he sat at his old desk and continued with his notes and typed up his newly revised CV before going downstairs to prepare something to eat.

The thought of tomorrows meeting with Vance panicked him, he tried to focus on the food preparation but the thoughts still pervaded any waking moment. He needed to pull himself together. He tried again to focus on dinner but soon found himself searching through the cupboards for comfort food, a cookie, chocolate anything but nothing came to hand. He checked the rest of the house and ended up down in the basement checking the small fridge his Dad had installed down there. Only beers filled the small fridge and a bottle of bourbon sat on top of it.

Tony picked up the bottle, turning it over in his hands, contemplating whether just one small drink might take away the panic, ease the burden, relax him. He put it down again and tried to walk away from it, knowing that it was a path he didn't need to go down, but all the time he couldn't find the one thing he needed, that he wanted to take the craving for a drink away.

He could feel himself sweating, his heart racing, he raced upstairs to the kitchen away from the bottle. He again ransacked the cupboards for anything sweet eventually finding an old tin of pineapple pieces in syrup. Peeling the metal lid back he put the tin to his lips and drank down the syrup as if his life depended on it. He sank to the floor amidst the desolation of the ransacked cupboards and held his head and cried.

He pulled out his mobile and dialed.

"Hi it's Tony DiNozzo, I need your help."

"Tony?" answered the voice on the other end, "I've not heard form you in such a long time, what's wrong, where are you?"

"I'm at Dad's, can you come over?" he asked, "please I don't know what else to do."

"I'm on my way now, do you think you can wait thirty minutes for me to get there?" asked the worried voice on the other end of the line."

"Yeah, I won't go anywhere," answered Tony, almost in a whisper.

"Right I'm on my way Tony, just hold on," the reply.

Thirty minutes later still sat on the floor in the kitchen amongst the disarray Tony heard the sound of heeled shoes coming in through the door that she knew would be open and crossing the wooden lounge floor to where he sat.

"Tony, what's happened," she said as she sat down on the floor alongside him.

"I've screwed so much up and I'm trying to put things right but I don't know if I can cope and I just want to drink it all away, but that scares me and then when I've tried other stuff that's made me ill and I just need him to know I can do this but I don't think I can and I've hurt him and I'm frightened I will hurt him again and the others and I can't bring her back and I don't know what to do," Tony was making no real sense as he tried to pour everything out, his breath was racing and he was struggling to breathe. He was in the grips of a massive panic attack.

Passing him a paper bag she had found in her purse, which was a veritable treasure trove of useful items, she placed a hand on his arm and instructed him to focus on breathing.

"Tony whatever this is I will help you," she said, "you may not know it but you have already taken the biggest step and done the hardest thing in the world, you've called me."

Tony closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. The gentle tones of the woman sat on the kitchen floor with him calmed him.

"Thank you for coming," he tried to smile, "I'm sure you have much better things to be doing on a Sunday evening."

"Not really," she smiled back, "and what do you think Kate would be thinking of me if I left you here in this state and alone?"

"She'd probably kick both of our butts," Tony tried to laugh.

"Yup," she was always the one to beat up our three brothers," laughed Rachel, "now how about we go and try to sit somewhere a bit more comfortable, I'm getting too old for sitting on hard tiled kitchen floors."

Tony nodded and rose to his feet before pulling Dr Cranston up as well and going with her into the lounge.

"Right," she said, "lets try and get right to the beginning of all of this."


	24. Chapter 24

"Look Tony I don't think you are ready yet to go and talk to Vance on your own," advised Rachel. "You've hardly had any sleep and we are a long way off of sorting this out, why don't you let me sign you off of work for a while, just until we've made a proper start on this rather than just going over the highlights whilst trying to tidy your Dad's kitchen up?"

"Dr Cranston please let me go and do this, it's burning away within me and whilst it's there I don't think I can contemplate the rest," begged Tony.

"Well at least let me come with you to NCIS, I'll wait outside if you'd like but I think I should be there," stated Rachel, "and can you at least think about calling me Rachel, Dr Cranston makes me feel old."

"I guess I can give it a go," said Tony, "if you let me go see Vance in his office alone. Perhaps you could wait for me in the bullpen?"

"It's a deal," she smiled, "look I'll pop home and go grab a shower and some clean clothes and you get yourself ready, I'll pop by pick you up and drive you in."

"Thanks Dr Cranston…. Er I mean Rachel,"he replied.

Rachel left and Tony went off to get ready, selecting his best suit and tie. At least he could try to look the part of a professional agent even if the Director didn't think he acted like one. He picked up the CV and the notes he had made from his desk and folded them into the inside of the suit pocket.

As he made his way back downstairs he could hear his Granddad clattering around in the kitchen. He entered the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Morning Son, why don't you grab a seat and I'll get you some breakfast," offered Jackson.

"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry," answered Tony.

"Why don't you just try a slice of toast or something, make an old man happy," asked Jackson.

"I don't know Granddad, I don't want to get crumbs down my suit," mumbled Tony.

"Well what about some fruit at least?" suggested Jackson, "No crumbs there."

"OK, I'll take a banana or something," Tony wasn't up for an argument about food but knew his Granddad was big on you having fuel in your system to get you through the day.

Handing him a banana Jackson paused for a moment in front of him, "hey you know your Dad and I talked about you yesterday after you left, about the man you've grown into, about how proud we both are of you."

"Did he tell you he isn't punishing me?" asked Tony slightly nervous about where this was going.

"Yep and I respect his decision and the reason he made it," said Jackson, "seems I sometimes forget that you aren't that cute 8 year old little boy that we first met but rather a handsome and intelligent young man."

"I sometimes think it would be easier to going back to being a kid again, with Mom and Dad and Kelly," sighed Tony, "if it was easy Tony life wouldn't be worth living, it's only our struggles that let us appreciate what we have got."

"Uh yeah when you're not throwing them away," shrugged Tony.

"Then fight to get it all back Tony," advised Jackson, "maybe you should draw up some battle plans again."

Tony smiled weakly, "I've got some," he said tapping his suit pocket, "no dish washing machines this time though."

Jackson chuckled, "well kiddo we could still do with one of them, never have managed to drag your Dad into the 21st Century."

They were interrupted by Rachel coming back into the house.

"Morning Jack," she greeted the older man, "Tony you look great, you got everything?"

"Thanks, yeah I've got my battle plans," he looked towards his Granddad, "I will ring you later Granddad, let you know how it went."

"Good, ring your Dad too, they should be discharging him sometime this morning," said Jackson.

"I will Sir," answered Tony turning then to leave. "I'd better be on my way."

The ride to NCIS was silent and Rachel constantly looked over to check up on her patient but felt that he was better focusing his mind in his own way at this point. The night before had been a long and at times tearful one and Rachel knew that it had probably dredged up more problems than it had solved but this was not an overnight fix and would take months, possibly years and the only way to stand any real chance of fixing it was to get everything out onto the table right away at the earliest of opportunities.

She really thought that this was too early for Tony to be confronting his demons with Vance, she hadn't had a chance to prepare him for it. His emotions were raw, but his fear of not dealing with it now and head on was greater. He had flat out insisted on doing it and on doing it alone almost to the point of telling her to get out and leave him to it if she wasn't going to help him. Reluctantly she had agreed and just wished he would let her in with him to see Vance. She had a few things she wanted to say herself and having put a quick call through to Gibbs whilst on the way back to pick Tony up had found out a great deal more about the Director of NCIS that she wanted to look into.

As the barrier lifted on the security gates at the Navy Yard Rachel noticed Tony's posture stiffen and his breathing start to race.

"Hey Tony remember what I said about the breathing techniques, just focus," she urged.

"I'm trying to," he replied, "it's not as easy as you would think."

"I know," she responded, "and you really are doing a great job and you'll hopefully remember that when you are in there you can always call for me to come and join you and help. I'll only be a short flight of stairs away."

"Thanks Dr…er Rachel," he answered, "I really appreciate this you know."

"Tony it's my job and I see you as an extension to my own family," she replied, "I'm just glad you called me, in fact I would have been upset if you hadn't," she smiled and placed a caring hand on his arm.

The office was extra-ordinarily quiet, partially due to a training session called for the Middle East and Africa desks, but also because Vance had sent Ziva and McGee out to act as a protection detail for one of the Deputy Directors who was arriving at Andrews that morning and needed an escort.

The orange walls looked even more hideous without the normal bustle and flow of human traffic in front of them and the silence was quite eerie. Tony showed Rachel through to his desk and placed his own coat over the side of the partition wall. He paused and looked up to the steel and glass stairway which led up to the Directors floor and MTAC. It swirled in his vision and he squeezed his eyes tightly too to stop the movement.

"Tony just breathe, you can do this," he heard Rachel almost whisper into his ear as she placed a protective arm around his shoulders. "You've done the hard part by calling me."

Tony didn't respond, instead taking a deep breath re-opening his eyes and steadying his focus before stepping off towards the staircase.

He entered the outer office and saw Vance's personal assistant sat there. "Agent DiNozzo, I'll just let the Director know you are here." She motioned for him to take a seat and picked up the phone.

"He'll be a few minutes Agent DiNozzo, he has SecNav on the other line still at the moment," she said.

Tony perched onto the edge of the leather couch frightened that if he sat back and sank into it he would drift off to sleep. He was tired and perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all, his heart began to race again and he was just about to get up and bolt for the stairs when the Director appeared at his door.

"Agent DiNozzo, why don't you join me in my office?" he said this more as an order than as a suggestion.

"Yes Director," responded Tony as calmly as his voice would allow him to do, sub-consciously touching the paper safety blanket in his pocket.

Tony walked in and placed himself almost as if at attention in front of the Directors desk and waited for Vance to sit down.

"So Agent Dinozzo, how is Agent Gibbs or should I say how is your father?" the question appeared more as a sneer than as a genuine enquiry into the health of one of his agents.

"Sir, he is on the mend and is due to be discharged from hospital this morning," Tony responded reminding himself to remain calm and not rise to any bait.

"And you are happy to carry out this hearing alone and without him around?" asked Vance expecting Tony to ask for an adjournment.

"Yes Sir, in fact I would prefer it," answered Tony who watched a moment's shock pass over Vance's face. "I would rather talk about what I have done and why I did it and how we go on from here without Agent Gibbs getting us distracted on issues involving you and your running of the agency Sir."

"What do you mean by that?" snapped Vance, immediately on the back foot and wondering what Gibbs had been saying to his son.

"I'm simply referring to parts of the conversation you and he had on Saturday morning Sir, some of them were audible through the door over there," stated Tony his confidence growing a little as he saw Vance squirm. "I thought it would be better on focusing on the relationship between the two of us and my taking responsibility for my actions Sir."

Vance clearly trying to get a grip over these proceedings again coughed and cleared his throat, "Yes quite right," he answered, "take a seat Agent DiNozzo."

Tony pulled up a seat at the large mahogany conference table whilst Vance moved to his position at the head of it. As he sat down he could hear Rachel's voice just saying "breathe." He did his best to comply.

Once again moving so as to take Vance off of balance Tony spoke first, "Sir may I begin by saying that I take full responsibility for the theft of the chocolate and also for walking out on the punishment detail on Saturday morning, there are however some extenuating circumstances that I hope you would give me the opportunity to explain."

"Go ahead," indicates Vance still off guard with the whole approach tony was taking.

"First of all Sir I would like to address the fact that Agent Gibbs and I did not make it widely known that we were related," stated Tony. "I mean I know that it was in our files and that when I joined here Director Morrow knew about it and over the years some of the others found out but in all honesty Sir, it's not something we make public at work because he is the Boss and I am his SFA, end of, he treats me no better because I'm his son, if anything he makes it harder for me, he expects more of me."

"Then if he doesn't show you favouritism Agent DiNozzo, why hide the fact? Asked Vance, "Is it that what you have just said wouldn't always stand up to scrutiny?"

Taking a deep breath Tony gathered himself together, he could feel a sheen of cold sweat forming on his back and forehead, he had to hold this together.

"No Sir," he tried again, "it's, that um, well I er…"

"Spit it out Agent DiNozzo," Vance interrupted.

Tony squeezed his eyes together, perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all, perhaps he should have waited or taken someone with him.

"Are you capable of speech Agent DiNozzo," Vance pushed on.

Shaking himself back to sense, Tony raised his eyes to look at Vance straight in the eyes, "Director, the reason we did not say a lot about it is that it stopped people asking me about why I was adopted and what happened."

"I'm not buying it DiNozzo, kids get adopted all of the time, they don't hide the fact that they are," argued Vance.

"Maybe but I didn't want to have to keep explaining how my mother died of Cancer, how my father blamed me for her death, how he only kept me alive so that he could access her money, how he and his cohorts beat and whipped me until my back was bloody, how they kidnapped me, and how to escape I stole a gun and shot out at them, how in the explosion that ensued I was buried alive in the rubble still chained up like a dog and how some of them died and how my father ended up in prison for fraud and child neglect." Tony fought to keep the tears back.

"Gibbs saved me, him and Shannon and Jack and Joanne, along with Tom Morrow and Admiral Chegwidden and half the United States Marine Corps. It's not an easy subject to tackle and its not something I want to keep reliving. My life was hell, at eight years of age I just wanted to die, to put an end of it all to be with my mom."

Vance was left speechless, he had started to read the files again at home but Jared and Kayla had wanted to play and he spent precious little time with them so once again he had left the files unread and spent time with his kids; kids who had the benefit of the love of two parents; kids who if anyone ever put them through half of what Tony had just told him he would kill for.


	25. Chapter 25

"I'm sorry Agent DiNozzo, I didn't know," Vance started to speak as he got up from the table and made his way over to the coffee pot sat on the heated pad on his drinks cabinet. He poured two cups and placed one in front of Tony, whose head had dropped to study the shine on the table in front of him.

"No need Sir, if you hadn't read all the extra notes that are referred to in my P2 file you wouldn't know," said Tony.

"There is a second file on you?" asked Vance.

"Yeah, Director Morrow put one together in order to keep my past from being the first and then only thing people ever bothered to read about me, it contains details of the NIS investigation, I've never read it myself, never really wanted to relive all of the details in there," Tony explained, his voice low.

"So why do you and Agent Gibbs have different names?" asked Vance, "was it to hide the fact that you were related?"

"No, I mean it helped not to broadcast it all, but it's not the reason," answered Tony.

"Then why?" asked Vance forgetting the reason why he had called Tony into his office in the first place.

"I was left a trust fund, could only have access to it if my name wasn't changed," said Tony, "Mom and Dad wanted me to have access to it so that when I was 25 I would have some funds to pay off college debts and the like. I mean Gibbs and Shannon that is."

"So you have an income besides your NCIS income?" asked Vance, "if you've got money why did you steal the chocolate and so damn much of it?"

"It's not that simple," muttered Tony.

"Well Agent DiNozzo you had better start explaining it to me," demanded Vance.

"I give most of it away," muttered Tony.

"What the chocolate?" asked Vance puzzled.

"No the money," said Tony, "I want to feel as if I have earned my way, I want others to benefit out of something that I was hurt for so that I feel worthwhile because they are getting it and my pain meant something."

"You give all of it away?" asked Vance still astounded by what he was learning.

"Yeah I do now, at first I paid off a bit of my college bills and Dad made me put a large deposit down on my apartment but since then the rest I give to a local urban youth development group and the rest to a programme for women suffering from domestic violence."

Vance sat back in his chair and took in the man before him, not the one that he had first thought he was, but one with a background that was usually hidden behind that grinning exterior that said frat boy. "I still don't understand why you took the chocolate Tony."

"I haven't really worked that out yet either," he replied, "I just know that it was the crutch I used to get me through my time as agent afloat, it was easier to come by than alcohol." He then let out a faint strangled laugh. "And then when you finally allowed me to come home I accidentally found out the machine if hit in the right place gave out free candy and I thought it was a sign."

"A sign?" queried Vance, "Explain."

"Well chocolate was what got me through the time away and now I was back I thought things would get easier but it didn't, I mean I was glad to be back, I hated that ship, but everywhere reminded me of her made me feel even more guilty and I hated you for sending me away and it felt like a way at getting back at you and coping with everyone else."

"Agent DiNozzo despite what you and Agent Gibbs think I didn't send you away to punish you," stated Vance.

Tony snorted and shook his head, "yeah if you say so Director, sure as hell felt like it to me and looked like it to everyone else."

"Why would I punish you?" he asked "Why you and not the others?"

"Because they weren't all there, because I was the senior agent at the scene, because you thought you needed them more than you needed me, because you think I'm old school, because you think I'm not enough like you or McGee, you tell me Sir because I can't find any reason as to why you would send me away if it wasn't to punish me, I mean at the scene you could see that Ziva and I were in one hell of a state, you knew Gibbs had told us to wait for him but you made us process the scene, you sent me away from everyone and everything I knew and didn't even let me get the mandatory counseling I should have had, Ziva got it you know, as bad as Mossad are they put her through counseling first, but not me you just signed me off as being A ok when in reality I was anything but that, why did you sign that off and send me away Sir?"

"I thought you were fine," answered Vance, "you always bounce back."

"Did you ask me?" argued Tony, "Did you stop for a minute and think what I had been through with the Director up until that point? Did you think about the stress I'd been under when Agent Gibbs went to Mexico, or when Director Shepherd practically encouraged me to fall in love with the daughter of an arms dealer who she held responsible for killing her father, or perhaps how I felt after the CIA had tried to have me blown up, or how I felt when I had to tell Jeanne that I had being lying to her and never got the chance to tell her I really loved her, or about when she then accused me of murdering her father when all along it was probably the Director. I'm sick of being the pawn in everyone's game, oh we'll get DiNozzo to do that, he always seems up for a bit of fun and excitement. I was exhausted, I hurt, I was a mess and you made me the only cop in a floating city of 5000 men and women most of whom hated me or at least were suspicious. I was alone at the very time I needed my friends and my family and that was your decision Director and that was a punishment whether you call it one or not."

Tony was struggling hard to keep the tears in his eyes, his breathing was becoming erratic and he needed to focus. He put his head into his hands and closed his eyes for a moment.

Vance at least had the good sense not to respond immediately and gave the man chance to calm his breathing, wipe his eyes and lift his head once more.

"I may have got it wrong Agent DiNozzo, but it wasn't a punishment," responded Vance.

"Then what the hell was it?" asked DiNozzo his temper barely contained.

"I had been put in charge of an agency that the higher ups thought was broken, took over from a Director who had taken the agency on her own little joyride and missed the fact that there was a mole operating within our midst. I needed to establish my authority, I needed to show SecNav and the rest that I was in charge, needed to show the staff that I wasn't going to be a push over, that a new regime was in town. I believed the mighty MCRT was running riot, splitting you all up was supposed to send out a message to the rest of the agency, but I couldn't get rid of Gibbs, and I needed McGee's skills and Ziva had contacts. I couldn't leave you with Gibbs, it didn't fit in with the plan."

"So why didn't you tell us about your plan, clearly you didn't think we were the mole?" asked Tony.

"I didn't know you and I didn't trust you," Vance answered openly and honestly. "Still struggling with that one if I'm honest. I think you and Agent Gibbs would do an end run around me given the first opportunity."

"Then you don't know either of us, and as for thinking McGee was the man you needed on the mole hunt well I admit he's good but he's not the only one," argued Tony and then stopped.

He took his newly written CV out of his pocket and slid it across the table towards Vance.

"What's this?" asked Vance picking up the envelope.

"My educational reports and work history," answered Tony, the one on my file is not that full and not up-to-date," he admitted.

"Well there's a surprise," said Vance opening the envelope and unfolding the sheets of paper. He scanned the information and then looked up at the man sat at the table with him. "Is this for real?"

"Yes Sir," answered Tony. "I did a lot of the studying when I was on the force, couldn't fit it all in at Ohio State."

"Why not?" asked Vance.

"Because to maintain the sports scholarship and make up the shortfall I worked and played varsity. Not enough time," shrugged Tony.

"But you had the trust," said Vance.

"Not at that point, well not all of it, just another smaller one but it wasn't enough to cover everything and well I didn't want to ask Dad to keep supporting me he was still struggling with losing Mom and Kelly and well I, well I needed to keep myself busy. If I'd stopped I would have crumbled and I needed to be there for him," Tony lost the battle to stop a stray tear rolling down his cheek which he hastily wiped away.

"But with these skills you could have made a fortune in the private sector," stated Vance.

"Yeah but money wouldn't have brought them back, it wouldn't have made me feel better, I wanted to be part of something bigger than money, something that meant more than dollars in the bank," sighed Tony, "guess I've kinda screwed that up now sir."

"Well you didn't make the smartest move in pissing me off DiNozzo," answered Vance. "Or in committing an offence."

"I know Sir, I'm going to sort it," he said, "I have asked Dr Cranston to help me, she's sat downstairs."

"Dr Cranston the psychiatrist?" asked Vance.

"Well she mainly specializes in psychology but she does cover both disciplines," replied Tony.

"What do you need the help with Agent DiNozzo?" he asked.

"If I knew that I probably wouldn't need the help," murmured Tony, "I guess with sorting out my guilt complex, my obsessive need to belong and for seeking out positive confirmation of my worth. I need someone to talk to that knows me but doesn't work with me 24/7, figure I can't put all of that onto the team, I'd drive them insane. That's if you will permit me to stay with the team Sir."

"I have to admit DiNozzo that my first thoughts was to send you away, fresh start for both of us, call it what you want," he watched as Tony's head sank but then raised again and his back straightened to meet his fate head on, "but I have reassessed the situation, can't pretend I'm happy with your behaviour or even that I understand all of your reasoning but I'll give you a chance, one chance you hear?"

"Yes Sir," answered Tony trying hard to breathe normally.

"You can stay with the team on the condition that you get help from Dr Cranston and that she keep me updated as to your progress, I won't have you hide anything from me again is that understood?"

"Yes Sir," answered Tony fixing the man with his most sincere look.

"And I expect you to start demonstrating some of these other skills you possess, you can't play the college jock for your whole career," stated Vance, "if you stay I want the professional agent not the frat boy."

"Yes Sir," answered Tony.

"We'll call it finished on the chocolate, you've already worked it off, but so much as steal a paperclip again and I will come down on you so hard that you'll wish you had never tasted chocolate," added Vance, "we'll review your situation with Dr Cranston in a month, prove to me that I was wrong Agent DiNozzo."

"I will Sir," answered Tony rising to his feet as Vance did the same.

"Then get out of my office go home, sort yourself out and be back at work tomorrow and if Agent Gibbs is fit to return to work tell him that he and I need a little chat in my office too," stated Vance.

"Can I tell him why?" asked Tony.

"Tell him we need to discuss our trust issues before we both get hurt," said Vance, "he'll know what I'm talking about."


	26. Chapter 26

All

sorry for the delay in updating and thank you for all of the messages. I have been really unwell and in a fair amount of pain and this has stopped me updating for a while but I am now on the mend and hope to get back to updating stories soon and adding lots of new ones.

Apologies for using this forum to post the note but i was uncertain as to how to let you all know otherwise.

I will remove this soon and replace with the latest chapter

Thank you

Scoops xx


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